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THE 


LADIES  MONITOR, 


A  POEM, 


EY  THOMAS  G.  FE55ESDEN. 


What's  female  beauty  but  an  air  diviae, 
Through  -which  the  mind's  all-gentle  graces  shine, 

Young, 


BELLOWS  FALLS,  VT, 

PRINTED  BY  BILL  BLAKE  &  CO. 

1818. 


District  of  Vermont,  to  vsit : 

BE  IT  REMEMBERED,  That  on  the  third 
day  of  June,  in  the  forty-second  year  of  the 
(Seal.)  Independence  of  the  United  Slates  of  Amer 
ica,  Thomas  G.  Fessenden,  of  the  said  Dis 
trict,  hath. deposited  in  this  office  the  title  oi' 

a  book,  the  right  whereof  he  claims  as  author,  in  the  words 

following,  to  wit : 

"  The  Ladies  Monitor :  a  poem,  by  Tomas  G. 
Fessenden. 

"  What's  female  beauty  but  an  air  divine, 

44  Through  which  the  minds  all-gentle  graces  shine. 

Young.1' 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  Congress  of  the  United  States 
entitled,  "  An  act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by 
securing  the  Copies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books  to  the  au- 
•thors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies  during  the  terms  there 
in  mentioned." 

JESSE  GOVE, 

Clerk  of  the  District  of  Vermont, 
A  true  copy  of  record, 


Examined  and  seuled  by  me, 


GOVE,  Ckrk. 


PS 


PREFACE. 


THE  principal  topics  of  the  following  poem 
have  cxprci»y;l  the  ingenuity,  and  employed  the 
pens  of  many  able  European  writers,  for  more  than 
r.vo  centuries  past.  But  they  do  not  appear  to 
have  obtained  that  degree  of  consideration  in  tho 
American  Commonwealth  of  Letters,  which  is 
claimed  by  their  paramount  importance  to  the  wel 
fare  of  every  well  regulated  community.  This  is 
the  more  to  be  regretted  when  we  reject  on  the 
og  important  and  undeniable  truths. 


1.  The  existence  of  a  republican  form  of  goy- 
rrnment  depends  on  the  knowledge  and  virtue  of 
the  great  mass  of  the  people,   who  are  the  sources 
of  power.,  and  the  guardians  of  pubiiek  liberty. 

2.  Women  are  the  earliest  instructors  of  youth 
and  communicate  in  infancy  those  mental  impress. 
ions  which  generally  form  the  character  and  decide 
the  destiny  of  the  rising- 


385 


IV 

'.->.  Tho  influence  of  trie  sexes  is  indeed  recipre- 
cal,  but  that  of  women  in  a  state  of  society  which 
has  arrived  to  a  considerable  degree  of  refinement 
is  nmst  powerful.*  In  their  stations  and  capacities 
as  friends,'  companion?,  mistresses,  wives,  and 
mothers,  they  mould  the  mind,  form  the  manner?, 
prescribe  the  custom?,  and  invent  or  patronize  the 
fashions  which  pervade  and  actuate  the  mass  cf 
civilized  communities. 

4.  The  station*,  privilege?,  intellectual  acquisi 
tions,   education,    and   advantages  for  mental    im 
provement  which   women  enjoy  in   any  conn  try, 
inark  with  the  greatest   precision   the  point  in  the 
scale  of  civil  society  to  which  the  people  of  such 
country  have  arrived. 

5.  So  great  i=  (he  power  of  woman  in  ameliorat 
ing  the  characters  of  men,  that  (he  most  direct 
mode  to  improve  tho  species  is  an  attempt  to  rai4^ 
the  character  and  coadition  of  the  sex. 

These  truth?  and  the  practical  inferences  which 
result  from  them  appear  to  have  been  fully  appre 
ciated  by  European  moralists.  A  useful  work  was 
published  in  Philadelphia  in  1803,  which  consists, 
principally,  of  selections  from  more  than  seventy 
volumes,  written  in  English,  French  and  German ; 
and  the  editor  has  given  a  list  of  about  fifty  difler- 

*  "  Women  compose  half  the  world,  and  are  by 
the  just  complaisance  and  gallantry  of  our  nation, 
the  most  powerful  part  of  our  people."  Spectator 
No.  4.  See  likewise  the  speech  of  Zorootbel,  A- 
pocrypha  chap.  iv,*£, 


ont  European  authors,  whose  works  enter  more  or 
less  into  his  compilation.  The  whole  is  occasion 
ally  interspersed  with  judicious  observations  by  the 
editor,  (whose  name  is  not  affixed)  and  given  to 
the  world  in  two  volumes,  8  vo.  with  the  title  of 
"  The  Parent's  Friend."  A  large  proportion  of  this 
work  consists  of  extracts  from  authors,  who  have 
written  on  the  education  of  Females.  This  collec 
tion  has  been  very  useful  to  the  writer  of  this  work 
as  a  common-place  book  from  whence  he  has  derived 
many  hints,and  ideas  for  the  improvement  of  his  own 
production.  Valuable  treatises  upon  the  same  or 
similar  subjects  have  likewise  been  published  since 
the  date  of  the  li  Parent's  Friend,"  of  which  the 
author  has  availed  himself,  and  he  has  also  derived 
assistance  from  the  Tattler,  Spectator,  Rambler, 
and  other  British  classicks,  as  well  as  from  poetical 
essays,  such  as  Cowpers  'Tirocinium,'  West's  Poem 
on  Education,  Miss  Aikin's  poem  on  the  "  Charac 
ter  and  Condition  of  Women,"  &c.  &c. 

It  will  no  doubt  be  deemed  presumptuous  in  the 
author  of  this  little  volume'  to  employ  his  pen  on 
subjects  which  hare  been  canvassed  by  so  many 
able  writers.  But  there  are  reasons  which  furnish 
at  least  a  plausible  apology,  if  they  do  not  altogeth 
er  acquit  him  of  temerity  in  the  attempt.  Few- 
parents  or  teachers  can  afford  to  purchase  the  books 
from  which  he  has  adduced  most  of  the  materials 
for  his  work ;  and  fewer  still  would  be  able  to  form 
anything  like  a  regular  system  from  such  a  multi 
tude  of  theories.  Besides,  many  of  the  rules  and 
maxims  of  the  writers  alluded  to  are  not  applicable 
to  the  state  of  society  in  the  United  States,  without 
considerable  modification,  They  appear  to  be  cal- 
1  * 


VI 

diluted  mostly  for  the  extremes,  (either  the  highei 
or  lower  grades)  of  European  society.  It  was  sup 
posed,  therefore,  that  a  sort  of  compendium  of 
their  most  useful  rules  and  remarks,  interwoven 
with  others  of  an  original  cast,  might  he  an  accept 
able  offering  i-o  the  American  publick — might  sug 
gest  kleas  which  may  perhaps  he  new  to  some  of 
our  readers,  and  by  presenting  well  known  and 
established  truths  in  a  novel  point  of  view  might 
lit  them  for  making  the  more  deep  and  durable  im 
pression. 

The  author  Las  chosen  verse  as  the  vehicle  of 
his  sentiment6,  because  he  believed  he  could  convey 
them  with  more  force  and  precision  in  verse  than 
in  prose.  He  likewise  flattered  himself  that  the 
precepts  contained  in  a  poem  would  be  more  apt  to 
attract  attention,  and  be  better  retained  in  memory 
than  if  they  were  couched  in  a  prosaic  essay  of 
equal  merit.  JVo  one  acquainted  with  the  subject 
can  hesitate  to  believe  that  such  productions  as 
"  Pope's  Essay  on  Man,"  "  Essay  on  Criticism,"  and 
'•Armstrong's  art  of  preserving  Health,''  have  been 
more  widely  diffused,  more  generally  read,  and  pro 
duced  a  greater  effect  on  the  publick  mind  than  if 
the  sentiments  they  contain  had  been  communicated 
in  prose,  and  enforced  with  all  the  eloquence  of  a 
Cicero  or  a  Chatham. 

That  part  of  this  work  which  treats  on  Female 
Education,  has  been  elaborated  with  no  small  de 
gree  of  care  and  diligence,  but  with  what  success 
is  not  for  the  author  to  say.  The  difficulties  which 
impeded  his  progress  frequently  reminded  him  of 
the  poet,  who  says 


vu 

u  'Tis  hard  in  suoh  a  strife  of  rules  to  choose 
The  best,  and  those  of  most  extensive  use, 
Harder  iu  clear  and  animated  song 
Dry  philosophic  precepts  to  convey."* 

It  will  be  obvious  to  the  discerning  reader  thai 
many  of  the  maxims  and  rules  laid  down  in  the  lat 
ter  part  of  the  poem  for  the  education  of  female 
children  apply  with  equal  force  t©  those  of  the 
other  sex.  As  the  sentiments  of  the  more  worthy 
and  enlightened  part  of  mankind  differ  materially 
relative  to  some  of  the  subjects  there  discussed, 
particularly  respecting  cards,  dancing,  severity  of 
discipline  in  schools,  publick  and  private  education, 
&c.  the  author  has  generally  endeavoured  to  add 
to  his  own  opinion  the  sanction  of  writers  of  ac 
knowledged  eminence.  After  al!,  he  neither  ex 
pects  nor  wishes  that  parents  or  teachers  should 
adopt  opinions  expressed  in  this  work  without  ex 
amination,  nor  be  influe«ced  by  the  authorities, 
which  he  has  adduced  to  counteract  the  decisions 
of  their  own  judgment  and  experience.  It  is  hoped 
that  the  sentiments  he  has  conveyed  may  deter 
mine  the  will  by  enlightening  the  understanding, 
but  not  array  the  former  in  opposition  to  the  latter, 

It  will,  perhaps,  be  alledged  that  the  females  of  the 
present  day  do  not  deserve  some  of  the  strictures 
in  this  work,  especially  those  relative  to  the  lack 
of  due  decorum  in  dress,  as  it  is  now  the  fashion 
for  the  ladies  of  the  ton  to  be  at  least  decently  at 
tired.  It  must,  however,  be  acknowledged  that 

*«&rmstrongla  Art  of  Preserving  Health. 


the  fashionable  fair  have,  heretofore,  not  been  alto 
gether  as  correct  as  could  have  been  wished  with 
respect  to  the  too  liberal  display  of  their  charms. 
And  though  the  "  stripping  mania"  may  not  at  pre 
sent  prevail,  yet  the  annals  of  fashion  serve  to  shew 
that  it  is  a  disorder  with  which  some  of  the  sex  have 
been  affected  ;  and  perhaps  the  administering  of 
moral  medicines,  during  the  present  lucid  interval 
may  prevent  the  recurrence  of  the  disease.  In  the 
mean  time  those  of  our  fair  readers,  who  actually 
do  not  make  the  exhibitions  complained  of  will 
please  to  consider  themselves  as  not  coming  within 
the  sphere  of  the  author's  animadversions  on  that 
subject ;  and  as  they  cannot  possibly  be  wounded 
by  the  shafts  of  his  satire,  it  is  hoped  that  they  will 
not  be  offended  with  the  twang  of  his  bow. 

The  author  is  apprehensive  that  plagiarism  will 
be  numbered  among  his  violations  of  the  code  of 
criticitm, 

"  Write  what  we  will  our  works  bespeak  U5 

Imitatores,  tervum  pccus.* 

The  proverb  atill  sticks  closely  by  us 

Nil  dictum  quodnon  dictum  pri^s  A 

The  only  comfort  that  I  know 

Is,  that  'twas  said  an  age  ago, 

Ere  Milton  soar 'd  in  thought  sublime, 

Ere  Pepe  refined  the  chink  of  rhyme. "J 

*  A  servile  herd  of  imitators. 

t  There  is  nothing  said,  which  has  not  been  said  before. 

J  Lloyd. 


To  such  allegations  the  author  replies  that  utility 
rather  than  originality  has  been  his  object.  He  has 
not  willingly  made  use  of  tha  phrases  of  others 
without  marks  of  quotation,  or  other  references. 
But  novelty  of  diction  and  arrangement  has  been 
all  that  he  has  in  general  attempted.  To  assert 
that  it  would  be  possible  to  vyrite  a  work  of  any 
length,  containing  altogether  new  ideas,  on  topics 
which  have  been  discussed  by  a  great  number  of 
writers,  would  be  to  accuse  those  writers  of  negli 
gence  or  incapacity  in  having  tut  partially  explored 
the  provinces  they  undertook  to  survey.  The 
author  i.-itfiided  to  give  t;  line  upon  line,"  to  exhibit 
monitory  reflection^,  which,  though  somewhat  trite, 
by  being  placed  in  a  novel  point  of  view  might  pro 
duce  a  new  and  beneficial  effect.  And  it  has  been 
part  of  his  profassed  object  to  give  a  version  of  the 
sentiments  of  able  writers  who  have  preceded  him 
in  treating  oa  the  duties,  influence,  powers,  capaci 
ties,  an]  education  of  females. 

It  may  likewise  be  urged  against  the  author  that 
his  style  is  not  always  sufficiently  elevated  tabe 
pronounced  poetry.  But  postry  of  no  kind  can  be 
uniformly  towering.  There  can  be  no  hills  with 
out  vallies,  and  in  didactic  poetry,  especially  if  it 
tie  thrown  into  the  form  of  dialogue,  we  have  the 
example  of  the  highest  authorities  for  stooping  to 
the  familiar,  sporting  in  the  burlesque,  or  assuming 
the  ludicrous,  but  pompous  port  of  the  mock-heroic, 
If  a  poet  is  always  attempting  to  be  sublime,  he  can 
hardly  fail  to  lose  sight  of  perspicuity,  and  is  apt  to 
soar  above  the  regions  of  common  sense.  Such  a 
poet  will  be  more  apt  to  be  admired  than  under 
stood,  and  though  he  may  by  some  be  theoght  a 


brilliant,  will  never  prove  a  useful  writer.  Rather 
than  aim  at  distinction  in  that  style  the  author  would 
adopt  the  apology  of  Dryden,  with  which  be  clo- 
ECS  one  of  his  versified  essays, 

"  Thus  have  I  made  my  own  opinions  clear, 
Yet  neither  praise  expect,  nor  censure  fear, 
And  this  unpolished  rugged  verse  I  chose, 
As  fittest  for  discourse,  and  nearest  prose. "" 

To  those  crilicks  who  would  examine  this  work 
with  a  microscopic  eye,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  spy 
ing  faults,  the  author  would  recommend  the  follow 
ing  sentiment?,  which  mar  be  foufid  (in  substance) 
ia  Johnson's  life  of  Dryden. 

"  It  is  not  by  comparing  lii:e  with  line  that  the 
merit  of  a  work  is  to  be  estimated,  but  by  its  gen 
eral  effect  and  ultimate  result.  It  is  easy  to  rote  a 
weak  line  and  to  write  one  more  vigorous  in  its 
place,  but  what  is  given  to  the  parts  may  be  sub 
ducted  from  the  whole,  and  the  reader  may  be 
weary  though  the  critick  may  commend." 

If  the  publick  should  be  cf  opinion  that  the  fol 
lowing  verses  are  useful,  and  they  should  not  be 
altogether  condemned  by  the  sex  to  whose  service 
they  are  principally  devoted,  the  author  will  not 
be  greatly  troubled  in  spirit,  if  those  who  would  be 
witty  or  wise  at  his  expense,  should  declare  that 
nothing  but  the  tintinabulum  of  his  rhyme  saves 
his  verse  from  being  as  arrant  prose  as  ever  was 
written  by  the  most  arid  commentator  on  an  obscure 
latin  author.  Whatever  may  be  the  merits  of  the 


performance,  k  emanated  from  pure  motives,  an 
honest  wish  to  uphold  and  strengthen  the  bands  of 
civilized  society,  and  promote  the  best  interests  not 
only  of  the  fair  sex,  but  of  both  sexes,  and  of  all 
classes  and  conditions  in  the  community. 


THE 


LADIES  MONITOR 


M.ENTOR. 

LADY,  behold  the  King  of  Day  arise, 
And  march  majestick  up  the  buroish'd  skies  ! 
The  forest  glitters  in  his  golden  gleams, 
The  hill-tope  blaze  beneath  his  brightest  beams-— 

>*AUCISSA. 

See  now  he  flings  from  heaven's  sublimesi  height 
The  headlong  day  in  silver  seas  of  light ! 
The  crystal  currents  round  tfc'  horizon  rolh 

And  flpods  of  radiance  stresm-&om  pole  to  pole. 

g 


H 

Horron. 

W  hile  hill  and  dale  and  inoss-clad  mountain  ring 
With  joy-inspiring  symphonies  of  spring, 
The  chirping  choir,  and  glittering  grove  invite 
To  taste  the  pure  and  exqui'site  delight, 
An  early  ramble  in  the  country  yields 
*)'er  velvet  lawns,  and  flower-enamell'd  field*. 

NARCIS9A. 

Those  poplar  leaves,  like  parasols  display'd, 
Seem  beckoning  us  beneath  their  friendly  shade, 
Yon  prostrate  trunk  will  furnish  us  a  seat, 
That  spear-grass  spread  a  carpet  for  our  feet. 
There  let  us  sit,  and  spend  an  hour  at  ease, 
Fann'd_by  the  fragrance  of  the  balmy  breeze, 
"While  you  perform  the  promise  you  have  pledg'd, 
That  ere  the  robin's  callow  young  are  fledg'd, 
You  would  disclose  your  tenets  as  respects 
The  Powers,  and  Duties  of  the  Female  Sex.; — 
Set  forth  their  Influence,  how  it  should  be  us'd, 
Or  heaven's  best  gift  to  mortals  be  abus'd, 
And,  in  some  hints  of  general  application, 
The  subject  sketch  of  Female  Education. 


IS 

41ENTOR. 

If  we  believe  what  has  been  said  or  sung 
fcy  Dryden,  Swift,  Pope,  Addisen,  and  Young1, 
Bj  many  a  wit,  by  hatf-wits  many  a  score, 
From  luscious  Ovid,  to  licentious  Moore, 
A  harder  task,  fair  lady,  you've  assigned 
Than  his,  who  thought  to  trace  the  viewless  wind, 
And  give  us  charts  and  definitions  clear 
Of  every  current  in  the  atmosphere, 
From  lightest  zephyr,  that  with  noiseless  creep, 
Scarce  the  smooth  surface  dimples  of  the  deep, 
To  rash  tornado,  that  resistless  flings 
Dire  desolation  from  his  raven  wings.  (1) 


NARCISSA. 

True,  if  we  credit  what  they  say  or  slog1, 
It  would  be  more  a  practicable  thing 
To  trace  a  humming-bird  from  spray  to  epray, 
And  note  her  wanderings  through  the  month  of 
Than  well  describe  the  leading  mental  features 
Of  such  a  race  of  fluctuating  creature?. 
Nay,  some  sarcastic,  scribbling  sons  of  spite 


16 

Denounce  us  all  as  demi-devils  quite, 

So-  obstinate,  that  if  a  hand  divine 

Should  paint  ia  sun-beams  each  important  line 

Of  duty's  path,  ite  characters  display 

Afore  broad  and  brilliant  than  the  milky  war. 

One  might  as  well  affect  to  ape  the  god. 

And  shake  creation  wi^h  Olympic  nod, 

As  to  confine  the  ever-erring  sex, 

By  duty's  limits,  or  by  reason's  check? 

MESTOR. 

Most  of  those  wits,  and  would-be  nits  appeal* 
Sometimes  wrong-headed,  sometimes  too  severe 
Their  writ-ings  shew,  in  many  a  snarling  line 
The  Cynic  grafted  on  ihe.Iibertine; 
But  few  can  trace  with  touches,  nice  and  bland-, 
Your  moral  features  with  a  master's  band  ; 
The  vulgar  herd  of  painters  will  be  sure 
To  daub  with  flattery  or  caricature  ; 
They  draw  some  monster,  with  mistaken  aim, 
Then  give  the  prodigy  a  woman's  name  ' 


17 

NARCISSA. 

By  long  experience  having  learuj  the  art 
To  trace  the  labyrinth  of  the  human  heart, 
You,  I  am  told,  a  better  humourM  sage, 
Can  better  sketch  the  follies  of  the  age, 
Each  subterfuge  of  artifice  detect, 
Our  virtues  strengthen,  and  our  faults  correct-^- 
An  enemy  to  vices,  which  disgrace, 
But  ever  friendly  to  the  human  race, 
You  have  the  power  to  chasten  those  who  trip 
Without  the  aid  of  satire's  scorpion  whip. 
Of  such  rare  talents  be  no  more  a  miser, 
Become  our  sex's  patron  and  adviser, 
And  make,  to  benefit  the  rising  race, 
"  The  path  of  duty  plain  before  our  face." 

MESTO&. 

Lady,  you  urge  me  on  a  vain  career, 
Above  my  limits,  and  beyond  my  sphere, 
Still,  what  I  can,  with  pleasure  I  impart, 
The  honest  dictates  of  •  friendly  heart, 

2  « 


IS 

•:  Plain  sense  and  truth,  and  surely  these  are  miue: 
Shall  check  my  wanderings,  and  my  flights  confine.' 

The  fairer  sex  possess  resis^ess  powers. 
Which  may  be  bent  to  meliorating  our?. 
Or  beauty's  matchless  fascinations  may, 
As  erst  in  Eve,  lead  crriug-  man  astray. 
You  reign  supreme,  and  at  your  option  ca» 
man  a  bru&e,  or  make  a  God  of  man. 


Urg'd  by  the  mandate  of  the  Queen  of  Hearts, 
See  woman's  puppets  personate  their  parts  ! 
Now  play  the  coward,  now  enact  the  hero, 
The  clement  Titus,  or  the  cruel  Nero  ! 
The  wisest  sage  she  makes  the  imp  of  folly, 
>lirth  metamorphoses  to  melancholy  ; 
And  now  she  smooths  the  wrinkled  bro^v  cf  care, 
With  rapture  thrills  the  bosom  of  despair. 
Love,  charity,  and  pity  aro  the  blest 
Celestial  inmates  of  the  female  breast  ; 
The  drear  abodes  of  poverty  she  seeks, 
And  wipes  the  tear  from  misery's  p&llid  cheeks, 


19 

The  way-worn  trareller,  shelterless,  distrest,. 

With  gentle  woman  is  a  welcome  guest. 

Thus  when  our  Ledyard  wander'd  faint  and  weary 

O'er  desarts,  dismal,  desolate  and  dreary, 

No  kind  companion  cheer'd  his  lonely  way, — 

Man  was  as  savage  .as  the  beasts  of  pre}^, 

But  woman's  care  his  every  want  supplied, 

By  woman's  tenderness  his  every  tear  was  dried. (2) 

80  when  in  France  the  madness  of  Ike  times 
Made  the  whole  land  a  theatre  of  crimes, 
When  seas  of  blood  by  human  fiends  were  spilt, 
And  all  was  terror,  cruelty,  and  guilt, 
Woman  remain'd,  fond,  faithful,  and  serene, 
To  mitigate  the  horrors  of  the  scene, 
Shar'd  every  grief,  bound  every  broken  heart, 
And  play'd  a  Howard's,  or  an  angel's  part.(3) 

In  Spain,  what  valour,  patriotism  pure 
Prompted  the  sex  to  dare,  and  to  endure, 
Let  Saragossa's  crimson  annals  say, 

faithful  history's  deathless  page  pourtray.(4) 


20 

The  God  of  Nature  to  your  sex  impart 
The  power  to  melt  the  most  ferocious  hearts, 
When  woman  pleads,  as  mercy's  advocate, 
Stern  cruelty,  revenge,  and  steadfast  hate 
Are  soften'd  into  tenderness  and  love, 
And  Ate's  serpent  chang'd  to  pity's  dove. 
Thus  when  the  Roman,  and  the  Sabine  hands 
Spread  desolation  o'er  Italia's  lands, 
When  fell  revenge,  and  brute  defiance  stood, 
Ready  to  plunge  in  seas  of  kindred  blood, 
When  ruthless  rage,  which  dar'd  e'en  heav'n  defy, 
Nerv'd  every  arm,  and  flam'd  in  every  eye, 
Woman  appear'd,  and  bade  the  tempest  cease, 
She  smil'd,  and  all  was  harmony  and  peace. (5) 
Stern  Coriolanus,  to  revenge  the  doom 
Pronounc'd  against  him  by  ungrateful  Rome, 
Led  hostile  bands  of  Volsci  to  her  wall, 
Her  towers  already  nodded  to  tLeir  fall, 
But  woman  pleaded,  with  an  angel's  tongue. 
To  her  embrace  the  ardent  warrior 


21 

Then  hash'dthe  hurricane  of  war's  alarms, 

And  Rome,  once  more,  was  sav'dby  female  charm*. 

My  Paetus,  'tis  not  painful,  Arria  said, 
As  from  her  breast  she  tore  the  reeking  blade, 
This  dagger's  point  can  never  injure  me, 
But  by  the  wound  it  will  inflict  on  thee. 

AH  ages,  nations,  boast  of  annals  stor'd, 
With  bright  examples,  which  your  sex  afford 
Of  all  the  virtues,  graces,  talents  jodn'd 
With  all  that  blesses  and  adorns  mankind. 

To  woman's  charms  that  passion  owes  its  birfcfa 
Which  may  be  styl'd  heaven's  harbinger  en  earth. 
*The  source  of  holy  matrimonial  ties, 
WThich  wisdom  sanctions,  and  God  sanctifies  ; 
Man's  sweetest  solace  in  this  vale  of  strife, 
The  purest  cordial  in  the  cup  of  life ; 
The  prototype  of  brighter  bliss  above, 
In  hallow'd  raptures  of  immortal  love, 
That  bliss  ecstatic  of  th'  ethereal  race, 


22 

Which  e'en  a  Milton's  bold  attempts  to  trace 
Have  merely  shewn  to  Adam's  grovelling  tribe, 
Immortal  joys  no  mortal  can  describe.(7) 

JJARCISSA. 

Now  elevate  your  lofty  lays  still  higher, 
And  borrow  Campbell's  Caledonian  lyre, 
Then,  while  you  wake  to  ecstacy  its  string-?, 
Steal  inspiration  from  the  bard,  who  sings, 
^  Without  the  smile  from  partial  beauty  won, 
"  O  what  were  man,  a  world  without  a  sun  !" 

MENTOR. 

But  ere  your  sex  are  fairly  deified, 
Turn  we  to  view  our  picture's  darker  side , 
Beauty  deprav'd,  becomes  a  baleful  sprite, 
A  demon,  flaunting  in  a  robe  of  light. 
Beauty  commands,  the  assassin  draws  his  dirk, 
And  midnight  murder  crowns  her  horrid  work. 
Her  Syren  charms,  like  necromantic  spell, 
Urge  the  fell  conqueror  to  the  deeds  of  hell, 
Her  lily  hands  dig  many  a  nation's  grave, 


S3 

For  she  rewards  and  stimulates  the  brave  j 
She  bids  an  Ilion  or  Persepolis  burn,(8) 
And  cruel  wars  vast  empires  overturn — 
Thrones  and  dominions  wait  on  her  decree, 
Th'  infernal  gates  obey  her  potent  key, 
Courage  and  strength  her  sorceries  to  resist, 
Powerless  and  fleeting  as  the   morning  misi, 
Serve  but    to  gild  the  trophies  of  disgrace, 
Like  Sampson  in  a  courtezan's  embrace. 

See  Anthony,  'twixt  Jove  and  honour  tost, 
To  gain  a  woman  think  a  world  well  lost— (9) 
See  Israel's  king  from  virtue's  path  allur'd, 
His  kingdom  rent,  his  father^  God  abjur'd, 
A  sad  example  to  the  world  display 
Of  wisdom  bow'd  to  meretricious  sway— 
See  cruel  Herod  bid  the  Baptist  bleed, 
While  woman  prompts  the  execrable  deed. 
In  modern  times,  see  many  a  Millwood  fair, 
For  many  a  Barnwell  spread  the  fatal  snare, 
And  those  who  would  your  sex  with  angels  rate 
Must  own  thateome  have  lost  their  "  high  estate/ 


24* 

As  arbiter  oT  fashion  and  propriety, 
Woman  gives  tone  to  civiliz'd  society, 
Passports  presents  to  wealth,  and  fame  and  powef, 
Or  dooms  to  misery's  all-enduring  hour, 
As  fickle  fancy  dictates  these  or  those, 
Who  chance  to  be  her  favourites  or  her  foes. 

Oft  have  I  seen,  and  shudder'd  oft  to  see. 
The  smile  of  beauty  bless  the  debauchee — • 
A  hair-brain'd,  heartless,  hcav'n-abandon'd  rake. 
Whose  vile  vocation  is  the  heart  to  break, 
And  humble  female  beauty  to  the-dust 
That  puts  in  him  her  violated  trust — 
Who  has  with  pangs  ineffable  distress?d 
Full  many  a  husband's,  many  a  father's  breas' 
A  sort  of  walking,  moral  pestilence, 
Who  poisons  youth,  and  murders  innocence,       *• 
Seals  temporal  misery  with  damnation's  doom, 
And  vice's  trophy  builds  on  beauty's  tomb, 
By  fashion  honor'd,  and  by  beauty  priz'd, 
E'en  by  his  wretched  victim  idoliz'd 


25' 

O  can  it  be  the  bard  made  »o  mistake, 
Who  said  each  woman  is  at  heart  a  rake, 
That  such  vile  characters  too  often  are 
The  favorites  of  our  fashionable  fair  ? 
Such  folly  beggars  measure  and  description, 
'Twe»e  better,  like  the  beautiful  Egyptian, 
If  self  destruction  be  in  such  request, 
To  hug  the  deadly  aspick  to  your  breast. 

Some  of  those  cavaliers  th  eir  arts  employ 
The  founts  to  poison  of  domestic  joy, 
Adulterers  by  your  vulgar  people  call'd, 
But  Knights  of  Fashion,  by  th'  Arch-Fiend  install'd? 
Not  wrongs  to  right,  not  injuries  to  redress, 
Not  for  relieving  damsels  in  distress, 
But  dubb'd  by  Beelzebub,  in  dark  divan, 
The  se*  to  injure  more  than  devils  can. 

See  the  poor  wantons,  that  our  streets  anney. 
While  with  the  smirk  of  counterfeited  joy, 
And  sickly  leer,  they  greet  each  passing  youth  ; 

Their  breasts  are  torn  by  misery's  sharpest  tooth, 
3 


26 

Forever  haunted,  as  they  roam  forlorn, 
By  blasting  infamy,  and  hissing  scorn  ! 
Of  human  destinies,  theirs  is  the  worst, 
The  primal  murderer  less  supremely  curst 
Yet  these  were  once  pre-eminently  blest, 
Of  beauty,  friends,  and  innocence  possest, 
In  evil  hour  the  bland  seducer  came, 
And  fir'd  their  bosoms  with  a  lawless  flame  ; 
Robb'd  them  of  honour,  and  of  peace,  a  prize 
To  lubrick  arts,  and  well  dissembled  lies  : — 
One  guilty  moment  of  forbidden  joys, 
All  hope  of  future  happiness  destroys  ; 
For  like  the  angels  laps'd,  from  native  skies, 
Woman  once  fal'n  again  can  never  rise, 
Her  only  solace  must  be  found  in  heaven, 
On  earth  her  fault  will  never  be  forgiven.(lO) 

Such  matchless  misery  is  the  direful  work. 
Of  whom,— some  savage  Algerine  or  Turk  ? 
O  no,  but  men  of  fashion,  such  as  those 
Fine  ladies  number  with  their  favourite  beaux, 
Ladies,  forsooth  1  who  flutter  round  a  rake, 


27 

Like  fascinated  birds  about  a  snake, 
Until,  at  length,  the  wily  reptile  draws 
The  silly  things  to  saturate  its  jaws  ! 
O  that  some  friendly  monitor  severe 
These  truths  would  thunder  in  each  tho'tless  ear  ^ 
Tell  me  no  more  of  vile  Platonic  schemes, 
Dispel  those  vapid,  but  pernicious  dreams, 
Of  friendship  female  innocence  may  make 
With  every  vile  contaminating  rake  ! 
Think  not  to  scape  from  infamy  exempt, 
While  you  those  tempters  undertake  to  tempt. 
As  well  might  lambs  and  wolves  ki  herds  combine, 
Or  the  neat  ermine  congregate  with  swine. 
Is  that  important  truth  to  you  unknown, 
By  cherish'd  friendship    characters  are  shewn  ? 
Let  us  suppose,  my  most  audacious  miss, 
That  you  escape  from  infamy's  abyss, 
Your  conduct  is  an  outrage  on  propriety, 
And  undermines  the  pillars  of  society. 
If  females,  moving  in  the  highest  sphere, 
Thus  careless  of  appearances  appear, 
Those  who  are  destin'd  to  a  lower  state 


£8 

(The  worst  examples  sure  to  emulate) 
Will  come  as  near  as  possibly  they  can 
The  dashing  belles,  who  shine  in-  fashion's  van. 

NARCISSI. 

But  wild  young  gentlemen,  when  once  reclaim'^ 
For  tender  husbands  have  been  ever  fam'd, 
Their  aberrations  indicate  their  spirit, 
Are  trifling  drawbacks  on  their  general  merit, 
That  ardor,which  leads  generous  youth  astray, 
And  holds  their  better  qualities  at  bay, 
When  melted  down  to  conjugal  affection 
Will  serve  to  bless  and  sweeten  the  connection. 

MENTOR. 

Full  many  a  aovel  readers  fascy  teems, 
With  these,  and  other  most  pernicious  dreams, 
Visions  as  well  adapted  to  deceive 
As  Satan's  whispers  to  backsliding  ETC. 
Granting  you  could  effect  a  reformation, 
In  one  inur'd  to  vice  and  dissipation, 
One  who  has  either  feign"  J  or  felt  a  flaise 


29 

For  every  fair  that  fashion's  annals  name, 
Secure  a  heart  your  mutual  bliss  to  crown 
Which  has,  for  years,  been  hawk'd  about  the 
What  do  you  gain  by  your  judicious  plan  ? 
A  feeble  wretch,  a  shadow  of  a  man  ! 
Your  batter'd  beau,  the  favourite  of  each  toast; 
You  wed  a  husband,  but  embrace  a  ghost, 
Are  self  condemn'd  to  torture  of  the  kind, 
Where  dead  with  living,  wet  e  together  join'd, 
In  loathsome  union,  which  the  poet  mentions 
Amoag  a  tyrant's  horrible  inventions, 


NARCISSA. 

A  very  gross  caricature  you  make 
Of  your  vile  super-annuated  rake, 
And  doubtless  weuld  his  budding  laurels  crop 
From  that  fine  animal  some  style  a  fop, 
And  pleasant  folk,  we  meet  with  now  and  then, 
By  spiteful  people  christen'd  "  ladies'  men." 
Though  true  it  is,  they  cannot  claim  a  place 
Among  the  noblest  of  the  human  race, 

Will  never  figure  in  th*  historic  page, 
3  * 


30 

Ne1er  play  the  hero,  nor  enact  the  sage, 
Still  if  a  toast  should  feel  herself  inclin'd 
To  keep  a  brilliant  bevy  of  the  kind, 
A  vapid  race,  like  Pope's  aerial  fencibles,(ll) 
But  still  as  ireful  as  our  indiipensables, 
Why  aeed  your  authors  bastinade  the  things, 
Who  dangle  in  a  lady's  leading  strings, 
Whom  we  allow  to  caper  and  to  prate, 
But  with  our  monkey,  and  our  parrot  ra^te  ? 

MENTOR. 

Though,  possibly ,you  may  at  heart  despise  themy 
And  merely  but  a?  pretty  playthings  prize  them, 
Still,  in  the  world's  and  their  own  estimation, 
They  have  the  sanction  of  your  approbation, 
You  set  your  stamp  on  counterfeited  trash, 
And  make  it  circulate  as  current  cash  ; 
Though  men  of  sense  despise  the  paltry  pack, 
And  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  their  ceaseless  clack, 
The  fools  may  prosper,  with  the  world's  majority,, 
By  dint  of  fashion,  and  of  your  authority. 
But  if  your  sex  upon  a  par  would  prize. 


Hake»,  fools  and  fops,  wolves,  geese  and  butterflies* 
The  former  creatures  would,  in  just  gradation, 
Below  the  latter  take  their  proper  station, 

NARCISSA. 

"Tis  not  an  object,  sir,  of  my  ambition 
To  join  in  this  most  curious  coalition  ; 
Nor  will  I  sanction  any  stupid  plan 
T'  annihilate  your  pretty  woman's  man, 
And  substitute  your  hum-drum  man  of  sense., 
To  gallantry  without  the  least  pretence. 

MENTOR. 

These  my  monitions,  lady,  are  directed 
To  make  you  happy,  innocent,  respected  ; 
When  I  behold  your  trifling  lures,  design'd 
To  catch  the  plaudits  of  the  coxcomb  kind, 
And  see  you  flirting  with  the  vile  and  vain, 
The  silliest  fops  that  flaunt  in  folly's  train, 
My  fears  I  own  I  can  no  more  dissemble, 
The  precipice  before  you  makes  me  tremble  j. 
Tremble  like  Moses  upon  Sinai's  Mount, 


32 

Through  mere  solicitude  on  your  account. 

From  high  behest  of  prudence,  while  you  swerve, 

Your  honour  should  you  luckily  preserve 

To  me  'tis  evident  your  reputation 

Is  on  the  high  way  to  annihilation ; 

All  men  of  sense  will  presently  despise 

A  flower  that  blooms  for  nought  hut  butterflies. 

And  if  for  insects  beauty's  toils  are  set, 

Nothing  but  insects  will  approach  her  net. 

Since  'tis  a  truth,  by  fashion's  annals  shewn, 
The  fair  sex  gives  Society  its  tone, 
'Tis  to  be  wish'd  our  leading  belles  would  learn 
The  man  of  real  merit  to  discern, 
And  not  in  preference  place  preposterous  pride 
In  foplings  foolish,  frivolous,  Frenchified, 
Nor  list  complacent  to  a  coxcomb's  prattle, 
His  heart  a  puff-ball,  and  his  head  a  rattle. 

NARCISSA. 

Those  you  style  coxcombs,  silly  as  they  ate 
Rank  high  above  your  literary  bear  ! 


Your"  book-full  blockhead  ignorantly 
With  loads  of  learned  lumber  in  his  head," 
Is  the  most  hateful  animal  I  know, 
Much  more  disgusting  than  a  booby  beau, 
Or  weakest  fop  e'er  bred  beneath  the  moon, 
With  head  as  empty  as  an  air-balloon. 
Lend  your  attention,  pray,  while  I  describe 
A  Sachem  of  the  literary  tribe. 

4 

Hight  Decius  Dumps,  a  Solomon,  and  fool, 

Could  p«t  the  seven  wise  men  «f  Greece  to  school, 

But  is  uncouth  as  elephant  just  caught, 

Or  Oran  Outan  fresh  from  Afric  brought, 

A  stalking  statue  could  not  be  more  rigid, 

Nor  walking  mummy  seem  a  jot  more  frigid. 

When  this  mirth-murderer  steps  into  a  room, 

It  is  pervaded  by  a  general  gloom, 

While  he  sits  scowling  with  an  aspect  grave, 

As  tenant  of  Trophonius's  cave — (12) 

His  speeches  set  as  Cicero's  orations, 

Larded  with  latin,  and  with  Greek  quotations, 

Thunder  in  words  of  most  remorseless  length, 

u  The  oaks  nodosity  without  its  strength,*' 


34 

He  undertakes  to  woo  some  luckless  fair 

By  rules  as  intricate  as  Euclid's  are, 

Lays  formal  siege  as  if  a  town  to  win, 

And  drives  his  courtship  on  through  thick  and  this, 

But  makes  approaches  in  a  zig-zag  line, 

As  if  he  fear'd  the  springing  of  a  mine. 

His  clothes  of  some  old  fashion'd  taylor's  fangling 

Round  his  swart  carcase  s"hiver  loose  and  dangling, 

And  often  common  decency  is  martyr'd 

By  waistcoat  buttonless  and  hose  ungarter'd. 

Dire  Hobomoko,  or  a  Kalmuck  God, 

As  large  as  life  could  hardly  seem  so  odd. 

O  could  you  see  him  at  our  country  dances, 

Clumsy,  but  coltlike,  how  the  creature  prances  ! 

At  his  approach  the  ladies  quake  and  quail, 

A  fiery  comet,  with  a  blazing  tail, 

Threat'ning  the  world  a  general  conflagration 

Could  hardly  cause  a  greater  consternation, 

Than  this  phenomenon  among  the  fair, 

For  each  one  trembles  lest  the  learned  bear 

Should  pounce  on  her  as  partner  for  a  prance, 

And  drag  her  dreadful  down  the  desperate  dance . 


35 

Now  he  approximates  the  shuddering  band, 
Seizes  his  palpitating  victim's  hand, 
Swinging  his  truant  legs  from  door  to  door, 
Heavy  as  Dutch  horse  thunders  down  the  floor  ! 
Sideways  and  lengthways,  every  way  he  bounces, 
Gowntails  and  gauzes,  furbelows  and  flounces, 
Are  torn  beneath  his  elbows,  hoofs  and  paws, 
That  rip  and  rend  and  rive  like  saw  mill-saws  ! 
Earthquakes  and  hurricanes  together  met, 
Could  scarcely  furnish  so  confus'd  a  set, 
(Roaring  above,  and  rumbling  under  ground,) 
As  those  condemn'd  to  thrid  the  mazy  roundj 
With  this  your  famous  literary  ass, 
As  mere  a  brute  as  ever  went  to  grass. 
Thus  the  poor  peasant  all  astounded  stands, 
Who  sees  a  whirlwind  traversing  his  lands, 
And  demons,  dancing  in  the  hurricane, 
Scatter  his  haycocks,  and  beat  down  his  grain. 
Dost  think  that  any  decent  female  can 
Endure  the  company  of  such  a  man  ? 
J'd  sooaer  wed  a  legendary  ghost,(i3) 


36 

Or  monkey,  freah  from  Afric's  torrid  coast, 
Or  bid  the  carpenter  cut  out  for  me 
A  husband  from  a  blasted  hemlock  tree. 

So  much  for  science,  now,  sir,  if  you  please, 
I'll  etch  you  one  of  his  antipodes. 
Spruce  Dicky  Dangle  is  a  lady's  man, 
Fine  as  the  spangles  on  a  lady's  fan  ; 
With  dress  unsullied,  linen  white  as  snow, 
A  coat"  the  tippy,'*  white  topp'd  boots  "  the  go," 
A  high  crowned  hat,  with  half  an  inch  of  rim, 
To  crown  a  figure  delicately  slim, 
He  hovers  round  one,  nimble  as  a  fay, 
Mild  as  a  moon  beam  in  the  month  of  May, 
Always  contriving  schemes  for  one's  diversion, 
Some  city  jaunt,  or  sleighing  ride  excursion — 
Anticipates  each  wish  at  half  a  glance, 
And  such  a  partner  for  a  country  dance  ! 
Graceful  and  light,  in  air  he  seems  to  swim, 
And  all  Adonis  shines  in  every  limb  ! 
What  though  'tis  true  some  envious  folks  have  said 
His  heels  are  hardly  lighter  than  bis  head, 


37 

Such  pretty  creatures  can't  be  made  in  vain. 
But  find  their  proper  place  in  beauty  'a  train  ; 
Besides,  he  whispers  in  my  ear  full  oft 
Things  all  so  sentimental,  sweet  and  soft, 
A  heart  of  adamant  cannot  but  shew 
Some  kindness  to  so  delicate  a  beau. 

MENTOR. 

Lady,  you've  sketch'd  a  highly  nnish'd  pair, 
Your  polish'd  monkey,  and  your  learned  bear, 
Though  characters  we  meet  with  every  day, 
^"ot  every  painter  could  so  well  pourtray. 
Learning  presents  no  privilege  to  dispense 
With  rules  of  complaisance  and  common  sense, 
The  muses  have  no  quarrel  with  the  graces, 
But  hold,  when  hand  in  hand,  their  proper  places. 
Men  I  have  known  of  knowledge  most  profound, 
£or  polish'd  manners  scarcely  less  renown'd,(15) 
And  every  rightly  cultivated  mind 
Adds  to  his  lore  a  knowledge  of  mankind : 
But  your  fine  fop's  a  character  I  deem 

Not  quite  so  harmless  as  the  thing  would  seem, 
4 


38 

What  though  the  creature  has  an  empty  head, 
It  is  an  animal  one  ought  to  dread  ; 
It  has  no  heart,  ne'er  felt  for  other's  pain, 
And  strives  to  be  as  vicious  as  'tis  vain. 
Small  talents  with  great  wickedness  combinM, 
May  work  a  world  of  woe  to  woman-kind. 

I  would  not  wish  your  pedant  lumber-headed, 
Itfor  shapeless  clown  to  youth  and  beauty  wedded  ; 
The  drivelling  dotard,  hypochondriac-mad, 
The  wild  enthusiast  with  visage  sad, 
The  selfish  being,  with  affections  cold, 
The  sordid  miser,  brooding  o'er  his  gold, 
Nature  ne'er  meant  for  those  intense  delights, 
Which  wait  on  youth  and  beauty's  favourites. 
Your  savage-seeming,  verjuice-visag'd  noddies, 
Have  minds  in  general  fitted  to  their  bodies ; 
The  deity,  in  kindness  to  our  race, 
Has  set  a  stamp  on  every  human  face, 
By  which,  together  with  the  shape  and  air, 
A  shrewd  observer  may  at  once  declare, 
From  characters  of  no  ambiguous  kind, 


39 

What  are  the  leading  lineaments  of  mind. 
Nature,  with  all  her  whims  is,  rarely  known, 
To  gild  the  casket  of  a  worthless  stone. 
Of  reptiles  venomous  there  are  but  few 
That  are  not  likewise  loathsome  to  the  view. 
There  are  exceptions  to  these  general  rules, 
When  wise  men  shew  the  indices  of  fools  ; 
Shrewd  /Esop,  and  sage  Socrates,  we're  told, 
Had  features  fashio'd  in  the  roughest  mould. 
But  these  are  rank'd  among  anomalous  cases, 
And  few  bright  minds  are  blurr'd  with  ugly  faces  j 
Where  e'erthe  soul  is  barbarous  and  rough, 
The  visage  is  of  corresponding  stuff; 
Nature  ne'er  meant  to  mask  her  human  creatures, 
But  bade  the  passions  mo*ild  the  pliant  features, 
Till  one  as  plainly  may  peruse  their  traces, 
As  read  a  label,  in  their  tell-tale  faces. 
The  signs  are  sure  as  text  of  holy  book, 
For  thus  we  say  one  has  a  hanging  look  ; 
This  man's  sppearance  indicates  a  quiz, 
That  man  exhibits  an  assassin's  phiz. 
Tie  Kalmuck-features,  and  the  Eskimeaux, 


40 

The  stupid  melancholy  savage  shew. 

In  our  poor  natives7  faces,  not  a  line 

Displays  the  human  countenance  divine. 

But  grief  and  care  too  commonly  we  find, 

Or  hopeless  love  eclipse  the  brightest  mind ; 

Anxiety  the  fairest  visage  shrouds, 

And  mental  light  scarce  glimmers  through  the  clouds 

When  we  perceive  the  wan  brow  overcast, 

Scath'dby  the  lightning  of  misfortune's  blast, 

'Tis  worth  one's  tender  and  judicious  care 

To  seek  what  eaus'd  the  tempest  gather'd  there, 

And  if  it  rose  from  carking  care,  or  love, 

Which  time,  and  tender  treatment  may  remove, 

The  wand  of  friendship,  haply  you  may  find, 

May  bring  back  sunshine  to  the  darken'd  mind. 

When  you  behold  a  genuine  "  son  of  soul," 
Bending  to  beauty's  magical  control, 
Doting  on  some  shrewd,  cold,  capricious  fair, 
And  stung  by  all  the  scorpions  of  despair, 
Your  smile,  perhaps,  or  glance  of  approbation 
May  wake  this  senseless  block  to  animation. 


41 

And  you  perform  as  great  a  wonder  then 

As  Pyrrha  erst  transforming  stones  to  men.(15) 

KARt'ISSA. 

But  if  I  find  that  my  admirer  is 
A  bashful,  awkward,  and  unhandy  quiz, 
Odd,  though  officious,  forward,  yet  «mbarrass'J, 
Must  I  be  ever  and  forerer  harrass'd  ? 
Were  it  not  better  to  dismiss  the  dunee, 
And  gire  the  dolt  his  destiny  at  once  ? 

MENTOR. 

Your  penetration,  lady,  will  discover 
The  character,  and  motives  of  your  lover  ; 
David  appear'd  insane  to  common  eyes,(16) 
And  angels  have  been  seen  in  rustic  guise. 
Sometimes  a  truly  meritorious  youth, 
By  love's  embarrassments  is  made  uncouth, 
His  hesitating  speech  and  odd  address 
Proclaim  the  Satyr  of  the  wilderness, 
A  sort  of  semi-vegetating  lout, 

As  coarse  as  Cloddipol«,  or  Colin  Clout, 

4  * 


42 

Until,  at  length,  from  bashful  durance  freed, 
Your  Pan's  transfigur'd  to  a  Ganymede. 

Cupid,  like  Circe  strange  mutations  makes, 

Coarse  country  clowns,  transforms  to  courtly  rakes* 
>. 
Or  bids  the  courtier  over  act  the  clown, 

And  makes  a  fool's  cap  of  a  monarch's  crown. 

Desponding  lov«  the  brightest  eye  can  dim, 
And  like  the  night-mare  fetter  every  limb, 
By  hope  inspir'd,  it  bids  an  air  divine, 
In  every  feature,  every  gesture  shine. 

Licentious  love  assumes  as  many  shapes 
As  did  the  old  celestial  jackanapes, 
Who  in  a  course  of  vile  intrigues,  we're  told, 
Became  a  bull,  a  swan,  a  shower  of  gold. 
But  if  your  suitor  be  indeed  sincere 
The  following  indications  will  appear, 
Looks,  actions,  words  proclaim  his  pure  intention, 
Now  flush'd  with  hope,  now  pale  with  apprehension, 
The  cautious,  silent  but  enraptur'd  gaze, 


43 

His  half-express'd,  half  stifled  wish  betrays, 
Emotions  speak,  he  trembles  to  reveal, 
But  yet  too  powerful  wholly  to  conceal ; 
Impell'd  by  fond  solicitude  he  tries, 
To  scan  your  accents,  and  to  read  your  eyes  ; 
Dwells  on  each  gesture,  treasures  every  word 
With  all  the  anxiety  of  hope  deferred. 
No  toils  nor  dangers  were  to  him  amiss 
To  gain  that  certainty  of  waking  bliss, 
Which  an  assurance,  would  to  him  impart, 
He  had  obtained  an  interest  in  your  heart. 
He  will  not  stun  you  with  a  coxcomb's  tattle, 
Nor  vague  unmeaning  artificial  prattle, 
Far  fetch'd  allusions,  and  quaint  similes, 
Which  speak  a  quibbling  head,  and  heart  at 
Will  not  attempt  your  morals  to  pervert, 
Feelings  to  wound,  nor  delicacy  hurt, 
Awkward  he  seems,  on  meditation  bent, 
His  every  gesture  shews  embarrassment ; 
And  every  feature  characters  of  care, 
For  true  love  ever  borders  o»  despair ; 
And  if  the  spell's  of  long  contiauatitn, 


He  falls  a  victim  to  its  fascination. 
A  settled  gloom  his  miseries  complete, 
And  shatter'd  reason  abdicates  its  seat : 
Before  his  merits  you  can  fairly  rate, 
His  diffidence,  'tis  your's  to  dissipate, 
And  bid  the  lenitive  of  hope  impart 
Some  consolation  to  his  wounded  heart. 
When  the  lorn  lover  feels  relief  from  pain, 
And  sighing  Strephon  is  "  himself  again," 
In  this  new  modell'd  being  you  may  find 
A  constant  lover,  and  a  husband  kind, 
A  quick  proficient  in  those  witching  arts. 
Which  form  the  ligaments  of  kindred  hearts. 

Should  you  perceive  your  lover's  case  forlorn, 
Let  not  the  pains  and  penalties  of  scorn, 
When  you  are  forc'd  to  disallow  his  plea, 
Add  double  damages  to  your  decree  ; 
For^  though  your  sentence  may  be  strictly  just, 
Yet  it  may  humble  merit  in  the  dust, 
Put  purest  innocence  upon  the  rack, 
'Till  reason  staggers,  and  the  heart-strings  crack. 


45 

Suffer  no  vain  nor  frivolous  pretence 
To  keep  an  anxious  suitor  in  suspense, 
'•'  If  hope's  creative  spirit  cannot  raise 
One  trophy,  sacred  to  your  future  days," 
The  fated  negative  with  kindness  blend, 
Dismiss  the  suitor,  but  retain  the  friend. 

What  disappointment  can  be  more  severe, 
What  more  deserves  commiseration's  tear, 
Than  his  hard  fate,  who  seeks  a  friend  for  life, 
A  lovely,  loving,  and  beloved  wife — 
Who  has  so  long  on  her  perfections  dwelt, 
And  at  her  shrine,  so  long,  so  often  knelt 
His  very  being  seems  identified 
With  that  of  his  anticipated  bride — 
Already  bound  by  flattering  hope's  affiance, 
And  all  his  wishes  centred  in  th'  alliange, 
Yet  trembling  waits  his  arbiters  decree 
For  all  he  is  or  e'er  expects  to  be — 
Can  dream  of  nought  but  joining  hands  and  hearts, 
Of  kindred  souls  created  counter  parts — 
Has  built  no  doubt,  to  please  h.is  matchless  fair, 


46 

A  thousand  stately  palaces  in  air$ 
Fabric  on  fabric  rearing  in  a  trice  j 
Glittering  like  Russian  palaces  of  ice — 
One  look  severe,  conveys  a  fatal  blow 
Which  lays  his  visionary  prospects  low, 
And  when  affection's  chords  you  rudely  sever, 
His  sun  of  happiness  seems  set  forever  ? 
But  such  solicitudes  your  heartless  beau, 
Has  never  known,  nor  can  he  ever  know, 
Incapable  of  any  generous  passion, 
He  bows  to  every  deity  of  fashion. 
From  your  levee  discard  the  fickle  fop, 
Away  the  imp  of  levity  will  hop, 
Like  silly  insect,  ever  on  the  wing, 
And  flutter  round  some  Bother  giddy  thing. 
Should  you  be  doom'd  with  one  of  this  pert  train, 
To  wear  for  life,  the  loath'd  hymeneal  chain, 
Soon  would  you  curse  the  inauspicious  hour, 
Which  put  you  in  the  paltry  tyrant's  power. 
With  all  such  vapid  votaries  of  variety, 
Sickly  disgust  succeeds  to  dull  satiety  ; 
Their  eun  of  love  declines  before  its  noon, 


47 

Wanes  with  the  waning  of  the  honey  moon, 
Then,  like  queen  Mary  and  her  favourite  Scot, 
The  pair  unite  to  execrate  their  lot, 
Half  smother' d  hatred  in  each  bosom  burns, 
Or  cold  indifference  into  fury  turns. 

But  if  a  milder  destiny  await, 
Your  ill  starr' d  union  with  a  worthless  mate, 
One  half  yourself  can  never  fit  the  other, 
And  though  the  flames  of  discord  you  may  smother. 
And  act  in  style  the  modish  man  and  wife, 
You  lead  an  anxious,  yet  insipid  life : 
Embraces  cold,  civility  constraint, 
Compliances  with  which  the  heart  is  pain'd, 
The  look  ungentle,  summoning  a  tear, 
Petty  vexatations,  nameless,  yet  severe, 
Taunts  half  express'd  that  border  upon  strife, 
The  heart  corrode  and  taint  the  springs  of  life  ; 
No  other  love  his  bestial  nature  suits, 
But  what  is  his  in  common  with  the  brutes, 
A  sordid  appetite,  unhallow'd  fire, 
In  which  no  friendship  purifies  desire. 


48 

Soon,  hapless  pair,  you  fall  in  time's  arrears. 
Plod,  peevishly  adownthe  vale  of  years, 
And  where  will  then  your  boasted  partner  rank, 
His  heart  a  sink  of  vice,  his  head  a  blank  ? 
Alas !  too  late  you  find  no  charms  can  bind 
Save  those  which  serve  for  linking  mind  to  mind, 
\nd  bid  affection's  buds  forever  bloom, 
When  all  that's  mortal  moulders  in  the  tomb. 

Nor  time  alone  your  pleasures  may  invade, 
The  most  angelic  human  form  may  fade, 
Blasted  in  youth  by  premature  decay, 
And  furnish  death  an  unexpected  prey. 
When  life's  gay  morn  is  wrapp'd  in  Stygian  gloom, 
And  beauty  hovers  o'er  th'  untimely  tomb  ; 
Those  lovely  lips,  and  cherub-cheeks  disclose 
No  more  the  lily,  blended  with  the  rose, 
Sunk  in  their  sockets  of  extinguish'd  fire, 
Those  eyes,  which  now  might  apathy  inspire, 
Who  of  the  tribe  of  coxcombs  has  the  power 
To  sooth  the  sorrows  of  the  torturing  hour? 
Who  then,  with  silent  step,  suspended  breath, 


Would  hover  round  you,  on  the  bed  of  death, 
With  softest  spell  of  sympathy  appease 
Xhe  ruthless  pangs  of  merciless  disease  ; 
Bend  in  mute  anguish  o'er  that  fading  form, 
Print  on  cold  lips  affection's  kisses  warm  ? 
Who  then  in  spite  of  manacles  of  clay, 
Spite  of  the  loathsome  symptoms  of  decay, 
Spurning  at  sense,  and  sensual  control, 
Then,  even  then  would  mingle  soul  with  soul, 
And  in  one  charming  characte-r  would  blend 
Divine,  physician,  husband,  lover,  friend  ? 

NARCISS.l. 

Your  rhetorick  triumphs,  sir,  and  I  propose 
No  more  to  flirt  with  fickle,  faithless  beaux, 
But  banish  bipeds  of  the  coxcomb  kind, 
Whose  vows  are  vapours,  and  whose  oaths  are  winxi* 
But  should  I  chance  a  man  of  sense  to  meet, 
Who  is  withal  a  gentleman  complete, 
Who  wbuld  unite  his  destiny  with  mine, 
While  Cupid's  torch  illumines  Hymen's  shrine, 

No  more  I'll  shun  th'  indissoluble  band, 
5 


50 

But  dedicate  to  him  my  heart  and  hand, 
E'en  condescend  to  set  me  down  for  life, 
And  be  that  hum  drum  animal,  a  wife. 
But  e'er  I'm  tangled  in  the  fatal  noose, 
And  tie  the  knot  death  only  can  unloose, 
Perhaps  your  worship's  monitorial  voice 
May  furnish  rules  to  regulate  my  choice. 
Please  give  a  full  length  likeness  of  the  man, 
Whom  you  would  have  me  marry,  if  I  can. 

MENTOR. 

Before  you  venture  on  a  wedded  state, 
Be  cautious  thatyeu  clearly  estimate 
Your  suitor's  conduct,  character  and  views, 
And  all  that  gives  to  hfe  its  varied  hues, 
Age,  morals,  prospects.,  temper,  education, 
Require  a  most  minute  examination ; 
Ne'er  wed,  for  sake  of  managing  a  fool, 
Lest  you  be  mangled  by  a  blunt-edg'd  tool — 
United  to  a  simpleton,  you'll  find 
That  folly  is  as  obstinate  as  blind, 
For  often  men  with  scarcely  Common  sense 


51 
I 

Become  great  plagues,  to  prove  their  consequence. 

I've  seen  a  stupid,  sullen,  lordly  lout, 

With  barely  wit  enough  to  walk  about, 

The  doughty  hero  of  domestic  war, 

To  shew  he's  not  the  foo!  he's  taken  for  : 

Though  destitute  of  every  other  merit3 

His  fireside  skirmishes  display  his  spirit ; 

His  poor  domesticks'  backs  and  sides  attest 

To  the  puissance  of  his  mauly  breast, 

And  china  crash'd  beneath  his  churlish  cane, 

Displays  his  prowess  in  his  own  domain. 

Abroad  he  would  not  treat  the  meanest  man  ill, 

The  tiger  fawns,  and  crouches  like  a  spaniel, 

Pockets  each  insult,  sneaks  away  from  strife, 

At  home  he  vents,  his  fury  on  his  wife  ! 

The'  tyrant  thus  engrafted  on  the  brute, 

The  tree  produces  execrable  fruit. 

Ne'er  run  the  risk,  a  wedded  life  attends, 
Without  the  sanction  of  experienced  friends, 
But  as  you  wish  to  shun  extremest  wo, 
Reserve  the  privilege  of  saying  no. 


-Should  kindred,  frsends,  and  parents  all  uaitc, 

To  recommend  a  worthy  favourite, 

Evince  yo^r  gratitude  for  favours  meant, 

But  do  not  wed  without  your  orvn  consent. 

Mistaken  friendship  only  could  advise 

To  make  your  heart  a  loathing  sacrifice, 

And  thus  a  horrid  living  death  contrive, 

Like  vestal  prostitutes  inhuard  alive, (17) 

And  what  would  make  most  terrible  your  doom. 

A  hated  husband's  arms,  your  living  tomb  ! 

Nor  is  it  oft  a  less  mistake  to  deem, 

You  cannot  love  a  suitor  you  esteem. 

For  love  may  be  by  gratitude  excited1, 

Apd  oft  lies  dormant,  till  a  pair's  united. 

Jfe'er  wed  a  man,  whom  his  own  sex  despise.. 

However  pleasing  to  your  partial  eyes, 

For  such  have  always  something  in  their  nature* 

In  common  with  a  fop  or  petit  mailrc. 

Should  both  the  Indies  all  their  mines  unfold, 

And  bid  you  barter  happiness  for  gold, 

Never  be  dup'd  by  any  venal  plan, 

To  wed  the  treasure  and  detest  thp 


53 

But  though  I  would  not  wish  a  lady's  heart 
Set  up  for  sale  in  matrimonial  mart, 
Unless  the  purchaser  make  better  proffers 
Than  that  of  all  the  wealth  in  Mammon's  coffers, 
Let  not  the  blind  God  urge  you  to  dispense 
With  a  fair  prospect  of  a  competence  j 
The  most  affectionate  and  well  match'd  pair, 
Will  find  it  hard  to  lire  on  love  and  air. 
Wrapt  in  th'  Elysium  of  connubial  bliss, 
Food,  fire,  and  raiment  will  not  come  amiss  j 
Love  is  an  epicure,  and  never  din'd 
Like  a  chameleon  on  the  north  east  wind. 

Let  not  a  transient,  visionary  flame, 
Lure  thee  to  paths  of  misery  and  shame^ 
Love's  a  delirious  and  destructive  dream, 
Unless  'tis  built  on  rational  esteem  ; 
Despise  those  silly  and  romantic  notions 
Of  wonderful  and  non-descript  emotions, 
Which  set  two  kindred  spirits,  at  first  sight, 
A  loving  furiously  with  main,  and  might, 

So  suddenly,  so  ardently  attach'd, 
5  * 


54 

The  simpletons  suppose  their  so  uls  were  match'd, 

By  gentle  mandate  of  resistless  fate, 

In  Dr.  Watts'  pre-existing  state, 

And  ten  to  one  their  tempers,  educations, 

Their  views!  of  life  and  favourite  occupations, 

Proclainj  them  opposites,  bj  more  degrees, 

Than  those  which  separate  antipodes. 

Though  novel  writers  have  for  aye  insisted 
That  love's  a  power  which  cannot  be  resisted  ; 
Such  trash  is  mischievous  and  merely  meet 
To  qualify  pert  misses  for  the  street ; 
Love  without  hope  will  commonly  expire, 
Hope  fans  and  feeds  the  fascinating  fire, 
Which  oft  is  kindled  by  imagination, 
Or  what  .physicians  call  hallucination  ; 
And  may  be  overcome  by  any  mean 
That's  found  of  efficacy  in  the  spleen  ; 
Amusement,  occupation  of  some  kind, 
Which  may  agreeably  engross  the  mind, 
Nine  times  in  ten,  the  lover  disenchant, 
Ajad  Cupid's  viewless  arrows  turn 


53 


In  spite  of  all  small  poets  say  and  sing, 
He  rarely  hits  a  bird  that's  on  the  wing. 
Are  you  in  love  unless  on  ruin  bent, 
Sit  not  like  patience  on  a  monument, 
Fancy's  pernicious  visions  to  indulge, 
A  prey  to  feelings  you  dare  not  divulge, 
But  to  some  prudent  common  friend  impart 
The  sentiments,  which  agitate  your  heart, 
By  whom,  with  proper  management,  no  doubt, 
An  eclaircissement  may  be  brought  about, 
And  yet  your  confident  need  not  reveal, 
A  sentiment,  which  honor  would  conceal. 
But,  if  by  these,  or  other  means  you  learn, 
That  your  partiality  meets  no  return, 
Let  none  discover  that  you  have  been  slighted, 
Or  that  affections'  blossoms  have  been  blighted  ; 
In  such  mischance  'tis  bootless  to  Complaia, 
For  e'en  a  Sappho's  lyre  was  tun'din  vaia, 
And  Sappho's  fate  describ'd  in  Sappho's  lays, 
Would  be  the  scoff  and  scorn   of  modern  days ; 
Then,  though  with  her  intensity  you 
Your  sentiments  if  possible  conceal. 


Some  pre-engagement  may  perhaps  exist, 
Perhaps  your  favourite's  not  on  Hymen's  list. 
The  urchin  God,  besides  his  being  blind 
Is  volatile  and  faithless  as  the  wind  ; 
'Tis  folly  like  the  love-lorn  lass  of  Greece. 
To  yield  to  such  a  Deity's  caprice. 

Some  foolish  fair  suppose  that  they  discover 
In  each  male  visitant,  a  desperate  lovsr, 
And  make  themselves  ridiculous  in  th'  extreme, 
'Till  they  perceive  their  conquest  is  a  dream  ; 
And  others  fall  the  victims,  by  surprise, 
Of  love,  approaching  under  friendship's  guise, 
To  shun  these  gulphs  requires  some  little  art, 
Aad  rules  laid  down  to  read  a  suitor's  heart. 

Let  no  repugnance  to  a  single  state, 
Lead  to  a  union  with  a  worthless  mate, 
At  Hymen's  vestibule,  though  long  you  tarry, 
Never  betray  solicitude  to  marry, 
For  brutal  men  are  ever  prone  to  vex 
A  seeming  suitor  of  th«  fairer  sex  i  < 


67 

And  men  of  sense  can  hardly  be  expected, 

To  seek  a  hand  that's  often  been  rejected  ; 
And  though  'tis  true,  you'll  find  full  many  a  feel 
W  ould  make  old  maids  the  butts  of  ridicule, 
A  single  lady,  though  advanc'd  in  life, 
Is  much  mot e  happy  than  an  ifl-match'd  wife, 
Of  frivolous  ball  -room  flatterers  beware, 
For  dissipation's  annals  will  declare, 
Like  ign  es  fatui  hovering  o'er  a  swamp, 
They've  led  to  ruin  many  a  pretty  romp. 
I  would  not  have  a  fashionable  belle, 
Discard  her  beau  beause  he  dances  well, 
Nor  wed  the  man  of  minuets,  jigs  and  reels, 
Whose  merits  all  are  center'd  in  his  heels  ; 
Partners  for  life  should  higher  claims  advance, 
Than  those  which  serve  for  partners  in  a  dance, 
The  scoffing  infidel  and  wretch  profane, 
Should  be  expell'd  from  youth  and  beauty's  train, 
With  victims  of  that  fatal  fascination, 
Which  drowns  the  faculties  in  dissipation  ; 
JS"o  general  rules,  however,  can  embrace 
The  cautions  due  in  every  special  case, 


Vour  own  discretion  is  your  safest  guide1  < 
But  these  my  hints  miy  aid  you  to  decide. 

NARCISSA. 

Since  this  important  subject  is  dispatch'd, 
Our  matchless  fair  will  be  divinely  matched, 
Cupid  will  cease  from  customary  pranks, 
And  Hymen's  lottery  furnish  no  more  blanks, 
Henceforth  "  no  hot  hearts"  will  be  led  astray, 
But  pair  as  quietly  as  birds  in  May. 

• 

Our  Powers  and  Duties  you  have  dwelt  upon. 
And  given  us  rules  to  regulate  the  ton, 
But  we  have  rights,  of  which  you  know  a  draught, 
Was  sketch'dby  one  Miss-  Mary  Wolstonecraft, 
And  which,  I  take  it,  as  a  lady's  friend, (18) 
Your  worship's  etching  ought  to  comprehend. 
Since  you  esteem  our  sex  so  good  and  great, 
Why  not  hold  offices  in  Church  and  State  ? 
Some  female  warriors  have  been  found  as  famous 
As  any  heroes  history  can  name  us, 
In  private  life,  each  day's  experience  teaches, 


59 

We  caanot  be  surpass'd  in  making  speeches, 
And  none  can  doubt  but  lady-legislators 
Would  make  at  least  most  capital  debateFS. 

MENTOR. 

Dame  Nature  tells  us  Mary's  rights  are  wrong, 
Her  female  freedom  is  a  Syren-Song  ,- 
What  though  our  Sampsons,  Solomons  are  found. 
By  artful  women,  led  astray  or  bound-^- 
Though  female  counsellor?,  time  out  of  mind. 
Have  rul'd  the  mighty  rulers  of  mankind  ; 
Fierce  fighting  heroes  and  despotic  kings, 
Fasten'd  in  triumph  to  their  apron  strings, 
And  lady  politicians,  I  confess 
Are  quite  unmatchable,  in  sheer  finesse, 
Those  who  give  motion  to  such  state  machines, 
Succeed  the  best,  when  plac'd  behind  the  scenes 
Should  ladies-errant  undertake  to  deal 
In  "  gun,  drum,  trumpet,  blunderbuss"  and  steel, 
Perhaps  some  incidents  might  much  perplex 
The  boldest  warriors  of  the  gentler  sex. 
Should  fighting  fair  ones,  take  the  field  in  state, 


€0 

They'll  capture  fewer  than  they'll  captivate  ; 

And  though,  no  doubt  a  battery  of  bright  eyes, 

Would  cause  a  dismal  quantity  of  sighs, 

Still,  warriors,  smitten  with  celestial  charms, 

But  rarely  run  away  from  female  arms, 

The  kind  of  death,  in  which  fair  heroines  deal, 

Are  not  like  those  dispens'd  by  griding  steel, 

For  men,  though  murderM  by  your  eye-beam  shotj 

Still  live  to  own  they'd  rather  die  than  not ; 

And  lovers'  deaths  present  a  kind  of  bourne 

From  whence  your  travellers  commonly  return. 

In  lapse  of  ages,  true,  we  now  and  then 
Viragos  find,  who  ape  ambitious  men, 
And  once  or  twice,  in  several  hundred  years, 
A  Catharine  or  Elizabeth  appears  ; 
But  still,  the  annals  of  mankind  declare, 
That  such  phenomena  are  very  rare-r— 
That  female  power  but  rarely  has  its  source 
In  martial  deeds,  or  is  juaintaioM  by  force. 


61 

In  savage  life  to  woman  is  assign'd, 
All  offices  of  mean  laborious  kind, 
Her  stupid  spouse  condemns  her  to  a  place, 
Scarce  one  remove  above  the  bestial  race, 
An  hopeless  state  of  servitude  for  life, 
And  holds  his  dog  far  dearer  than  his  wife, 
By  toil  degraded,  and  depress'd  by  fear, 
She  feels  no  tie  that  makes  existence  dear, 
Life  is  a  burthen,  heavy  to  endure, 
A  long  disease,  which  death  alone  can  cure  ; 
And  lest  her  offspring  meet  the  -dreadful  doom 
Of  hopeless  servitude  and  rayless  gloom, 
She  murders  them ! — esteems  the  fatal  blow, 
The  highest  boon  affection  can  bestow  !(19) 

Scarce  less  the  evils  which  your  sex  await, 
When  man  emerging  from  a  savage  state, 
Has  fill'dhis  sconce  with  strange  erratic  fancies. 
Such  as  we  see  in  legends  and  romances  ; 
When,  honour'd  with  his  lady's  scarf  or  glove, 
Boiling  with  valour,  terribly  in  love, 
6 


Arm'd  capapee,  the  formidable  knight 

Rides  forth  to  conquer,  in  his  lady's  right, 

To  prove  beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt 

His  mistress  beautiful  as  he  is  stout ; 

And  tut  men's  throats  in  right  heroic  fashion. 

To  shew  the  influence  of  the  tender  passion. 

Mean  while  the  fair  one,  who  inspired  his  flame, 

Her  desperate  champion  scarcely  knows  by  name  ; 

In  castle  gltomy  and  remote  confin'd, 

Shut  out  from  all  communion  with  mankind, 

Scarce  visited  by  e'en  a  solar  ray, 

She  vegetates  a  torpid  life  away. 

Again  what  evils  and  temptations  wait 

On  woman  in  a  highly  polish'd  state  ? 

Ske  then  becomes  a  truant,  trifling  thing1, 

Destin'd  to  dally,  dandle,  dance  and  sing, 

To  paint,  parade,  play,  prattle,  and  excite 

The  grossest  cravings  of  gross  appetite — 

A  kind  of  love  that's  foreign  to  the  heart, 

In  which  esteem  can  never  bear  a  part. 

But  when  mankind  are  duly  civiliz'd, 

The  sex  are  honoured  and  their  virtue*  priz'd, 


"Tis  then  recogniz'd  as  the  omniscient  plaa 
That  woman  be  the  equal  friend  of  man, 
That  those  alike  most  dangerously  misjudge 
Who  make  her  or  a  goddess,  or  a  drudge. 


NARCISSA. 

Bound  fast  in  fate's  indissoluble  tether, 
The  paths  of  life  the  sexes  trace  together, 
Are  fellow  travellers,  weal  or  woe  betide, 
And  when  one  slips  the  other's  sure  to  slide, 
Thus  'tis  recorded  in  th' historic  page, 
In  every  nation,  and  in  every  age, 
When  man's  deprav'd  by  folly  orb}*-  crimes, 
Woman  becomes  a  sample  of  th^  times, 
Our  foibles,  themes  of  moral  declamation, 
Are  mostly  lures  to  gain  your  approbation, 
For  true  it  is,  in  every  scheme  we  plan, 
We  are  but  anglers  for  that  odd-fish,  man, 
Our  very  crimes,  to  catch  male  gudgeons  meant, 
Are  but  too  well  adapted  to  th'  intent 


64 

MENTOR. 

For  this  cause  fashion's  whim  whams  are  embrae'd, 
Her  now  no  body,  now  three  quarters  waist, 
Her  fickle  followers  play  as  many  pranks, 
As  could  a  troop  of  crazy  mountebanks  ; 
With  garments  now,  as  Indian  blanket  loose, 
And  now  tight  lac'd,  as  stiff  as  spitted  goose, 
Anon  behold  a  neck  and  bosom  bare, 
Allures  the  biped  game  to  beauty's  lair. 
But  still,  with  all  your  toils  and  pains  immense, 
Such  fool-traps  rarely  take  a  man  of  sense, 
And  I  would  warn  our  fashionable  misses 
Against  this  sporting  upon  precipices. 
Though  rakes  and  coxcombs,  malapert  and  vain, 
And  paltry  parasites  may  swell  your  train 
iTet  these  false-hearted  simpletons  despise 
The  flirts  whom  they  pretend  to  idolize : 
Believe  them  silly  things,  who  have  the  power 
To  speed  the  pinions  of  an  idle  hour, 
But  genuine  love  and  rational  esteem, 
Are  qualities  of  which  they  never  dreamt 
And  prudent  people  will  be  apt  to  fear, 


65 

Such  liberal  ladies  are  what  they  appear. 

When  e'er  a  dress  of  gew  gaws  and  of  flounces 

Is  quite  transparent  and  scarce  weighs  four  ounces, 

I'm  led  to  think  its  silly  owner's  brains, 

Can  hardly  muster  half  as  many  grains  : 

For  who  would  wed  a  nymph,  though  passing  fair, 

Whose  boasted  charms  are  common  as  the  air  ? 

What  chapman,  if  he's  not  a  block-head  buys, 

A  property  he  can't  monopolize  ?  j 

What  showman,  who  is  not  a  stupid  wight, 

Displays  his  greatest  rarities  in  sight  ? 

One  would  suppose  the  answers  must  be  plain, 

And  strike  all  intellects  not  quite  insane, 

And  yet  sometimes  I  fear  our  modern  Eves 

Will  quite  forget  their  grandam  wore  fig  leaves, 

And  by  and  by  at  fashion's  frivolous  call,  j 

Appear  quite  naked  at  a  public  ball,  \ 

Like  fine  French  ladies,  who  by  fashion  led  on, 

Once  grac'd  a  theatre,  without  a  thread  on. (20) 

Full  many  a  beauty  blasted  in  her  bloom, 

This  stripping  mania  hurries  to  the  tomb  ;— ^ 

There's  one  old  Boreas  woos  your  thio  clad  fair^ 
6  * 


66 

Salutes  them  boldly,  and  with  such  an  air ! 
But  this  rough  gallant  has  a  baneful  breath, 
And  his  embraces  are  the  assaults  of  death. 

KARCISSA. 

Now,  Mr.  Monitor,  you  play  the  scrub, 
And  act  Diogenes,  without  his  tub  ! 
For  fashion's  models  you  would  wish,  I'll  venture  ye, 
To  send  us  back  for  more  than  half  a  century ; 
By  your  sagacity  we  shall  be  told 
That  nought  is  excellent  but  what  is  old. 
Wouldst  thou  revive  the  fooleries  of  dress, 
Which  mark'd  "the  golden  age  of  good  queen  Bess" 
In  whale-bone  boddices  lace  beauty's  train, 
'Till  like  a  wasp  they're  nearly  cut  in  twain  ? 
With  huge  hoop  petticoats  gay  nymphs  surround, 
And  trains  that  trail  for  yards  upon  the  ground  ? 
Or  would  those  old  French  fashions  be  preferr'd, 
Which  were,  if  possible  still  more  absurd, 
When  caps,  and  bonnets,  menacing  the  moon, 
Glard  like  a  meteor,  or  an  air  balloon — 
Head  dresses  tall  as  towers  were  all  the  ton, 


67 

And  dashing  beauties  when  they  put  them  on, 

Arrang'd  their  toilets  in  the  open  street, 

And  whe*;  their  upper-story  was  complete, 

Love's  apparatus  fitted  to  a  pin, 

The  widest  street  door  would  not  take  them  in  ? 

The  fascinating  creatures  then,  no  doubt, 

Play'd  off  their  charms  on  passengers  without. 

Thus  erst,  in  France  they  strove  for  fashion's  prize.. 

Unless  grave  authors  state  enormous  lies.  (21) 

Or  will  your  worship  be  so  good  as  state, 

What  follies  please  you  of  less  ancient  date  ? 

You  would  be  raptur'd,  if  I  right  opine, 

With  high-heel'd  shoes,  crape  cushions  to  combine. 

Would  wish  our  toilets  fix'd  upon  the  scale, 

Of  Richard  Steele's  good  lady  Fardingale. 

MEKTOR. 

I  am  no  Cynic,  lady,  who  would  lay 
A  stumbling  block  in  youth  and  beauty's  way, 
With  candor  too,  I  willingly  avow, 
That  fashion's  follies  are  less  foolish  now, 
Than  were  the  pranks  ske  formerly  display'd, 


68 

When  «n  life's  stage  my  foolish  part  was  play'd. 

I  wish  you  not  to  altogether  brave 

The  laws  of  fashion,  nor  to  be  its  slare, 

While  at  your  toilet  decency  presides, 

Let  taste  and  judgment  be  your  constant  guides, 

Your  age,  shape,  rank,the  season,your  complexiont 

With  your  apparel  claim  a  due  connexion  ; 

Let  your  attire,  at  proper  times  be  airy, 

And  if  you  please  fantastic  as  a  fairy, 

But  never  sacrifice  your  health  and  ease, 

To  a  vain  hope  by  fashion's  whims  to  please. 

Let  not  your  wardrobe  be  disgrac'd  by  meant 

Of  modern,  modish,  mischievous  machines, 

With  which,  unless  they're  dolefully  belied^ 

Some  fooli  of  fashion  have  been  fortified, 

And  bitterly,  regretted  their  presumption, 

When  squeez'd  and  pinion'd  into  a  consumption. 

My  pupils  should  not  be  allow'd  the  use 

Of  too  much  vinegar  and  lemon  juice, 

With  which  some  ladies,  not  so  nice  a  prim, 

Forsake  of  seeming  delicately  slim,  [forgive) 

Have  drugg'd  themselves  (may  heaven  such  fools 


69 

'Till  they  became  too  delicate  to  live  ! 
These  and  a  thousand  such  pernicious  arts, 
Folly's  artillery  aim'd  at  heedless  hearts, 
May  now  and  then  a  fop  or  fool  decoy, 
But  cannot  fail  that  influence  to  destroy, 
Which,  if  it  were  to  truth  and  virtue  giv'n, 
Might  make  this  earth  a  prototype  of  heav'n. 

If  vice  and  folly  bask  in  beauty's  smile, 
Like  noxious  reptiles  on  the  banks  of  Nile, 
Their  votaries  vile  soon  swarm  on  either  hand, 
And  spread  like  locusts  o'er  a  ruin'd  land. 

Ladies  who  "  stoop  to  conquer"  fashion's  elves, 
Injure  mankind,  and  over  reach  themselves, 
For  b«auty  under  affectation's  guise, 
Is  sheer  deformity,  in  reason's  eyes. 

See  Fanny  Flytrap  glitter  at  a  ball, 
A  brisk  automaton,  a  walking  doll, 
But  such  a  paragon  in  shape  and  air, 
Venus  de  Medicis  would  seem  less  fair, 


What  shoals  of  fops  around  the  fair  oae  caper, 
Like  giddy  insects,  buzzing  round  a  taper  ! 
Caelebs  by  chance  within  the  circle  strays, 
A  man  of  sense,  attracted  by  the  blaze 
Of  beauty  so  transcendent,  with  design, 
His  heart  to  offer  at  so  fair  a  shriae. 
The  pretty  idiot  opes  her  coral  lips, 
Where  lore  of  course  his  choicest  nectar  sips ; 
Bolts  out  crude  nonsense,  with  affected  lisp, 
And  beauty's  son  becomes  a  will-o-wisp. 
To  catch  all  hearts,  see  now  she's  on  th'  alert, 
Now  plays  the  prude,  now  overacts  the  flirt, 
Ogles  and  stares,  and  languishes  and  tries'. 
To  look  ineffably  with  both  her  eyes, 
Now  gires  her  fan  it's  fascinating  flutter, 
And  titters  every  syllable  she  utters. 

Behold  what  attitudes,  display  of  shapes, 
Held  out  as  lures  to  fashionable  apes, 
Each  gesture  says  "  how  beautiful  I  be," 
And  every  look  "  Lord  only  look  of  me"! 
With  Caelebs  netr  the  charm  dissolves  a  pace, 


71 

He  wonders  notf  she  sports  so  plain  a  face  I 
Her  arts  and  attitudes  have  lost  their  aim, 
And  chill'd  the  fervour  of  his  rising  flame  ; 
Like  Ixion  now,  he  finds  his  goddess  proud, 
Is  metamorpos'd  to  a  vapid  cloud. 
Though  fops  and  fools  admire  such  dainty  dolts, 
With  scarce  the  intellect  of  yearling  colts, 
xtfot  Venus'  self  the  man  of  sense  would  bind, 
Without  some  portion  of  Minerva's  mind. 
"  Beauties  in  vain  their  pretty  eyes  may  roll, 
Charms  strike  the  sight,  but  merit  wins  the  soul." 
Yet  this  fine  thing,  with  neither  head  nor  heart, 
Is  not  the  fool  of  nature,  hut  of  art, 
From  earliest  infancy  has  heen  appris'd, 
That  such  a  beauty  must  be  idoliz'd, 
E'en  by  her  nurse,  while  yet  a  tiny  elf, 
Taught  not  to  reverence^  but  adore  herself. 
Fond  foolish  parents,  blest  with  wealth  and  rank, 
Worshipp'd  her  form,  but  left  her  head  a  blank, 
Hence  that  fine  shape,  gay  air,  and  lily  skin, 
But  make  more  evident  the  blank  within, 


72 

Her  beauty's  found,  when  brought  to  reason's  trial, 
A  flaring  label  on  an  empty  vial. 

Her  contrast  see  in  yonder  timid  fair, 
With  such  an  artless,  notice  shunning  air, 
Not  trick'd,  and  furbelow'd  from  head  to  fe«t3 
Her  dress  plain,  elegant,  and  simply  neat, 
An  unaffected  modesty  display'd 
In  every  look,  and  motion  of  the  maid, 
Which  e'en  the  greatest  libertines  admire. 
Commands  esteem  and  over  awes  desire, 
An  apprehension  quick,  a  mind  serene, 
Stamp  their  divinity  upon  her  mien, 
Like  that  majestic  virtue,  which  subdued 
As  Milton  sings,  the  monsters  of  the  wood — (22) 
Adorn  a  simple  village  maiden  more, 
Than  could  the  cestus  Cythereis  wore, (23) 
Still  there  is  nothing  in  her  shape  or  face, 
The  painter's  or  the  sculptor's  hand  can  trace. 
Which  gives  a  claim  to  beauty's  envied  mead, 
Whence  then  can  so  much  loveliness  proceed  ? 
There  is  a  beauty,  which  transcends  their  art, 


75 

A  culturd  mind,  and  rectitude  of  heart, 
Speak  in  her  looks,  in  every  action  shine, 
And  tell  the  world  their  mansion  is  divine. 
Familiar  beauty's  sure  to  be  neglected, 
Respect  yourself,  if  you  would  bo  respected, 
Imprudent  females,  when  too  late  discover, 
A  lover  blest  no  longer  is  a  lover, 
That  lovers  half-blest  loose  one  half  their  flame, 
Is  shewn  by  many  a  disappointed  aim. 

Selina  fears  you'll  take  her  for  a  prude. 
Unless  she  suffers  suitors  to  be  rude, 
Her  ready  lips  celestial  sweets  disclose, 
Without  a  forfeit  to  a  herd  of  beaux, 
Who  hover  round  her,  as  in  grocer's  shop, 
A  swarm  of  flies  beset  a  treacle  drop  ; 
With  rumpled  dress,  she  flirts  about  the  town, 
Squir'd  by  some  knight  of  infamous  renown  ; 
;;  A  youth  of  fire  who  has  drunk  deep  and  play'd, 
And  kill'd  his  man,  and  triumph'd  o'er  his  maid," 
She  makes  her  beau,  for  ball  or  sleighing  ride, 

Her  chief  fan-flirter,  and  her  shopping  guide — * 
7 


74 

•  I  or  him,  as  yet  unhang'd  she  spreads  her  charms, 
Snatches  the  dear  destroyer  to  her  arms, 
And  amply  gives,  (though  treated  long  amiss,) 
The  man  of  merit  his  revenge  in  this." 
'Tis  thus  that  beauty,  brought  to  vice's  aid, 
Your  sex  may  ruin,  and  our  sex  degrade. 

NARCISSA. 

While  thus  you  follow  fashion's  crazy  crew, 
One  half  your  subject  has  escap'd  your  view, 
If  satire's  tribute  you  must  stop  to  pay, 
To  every  nude  that  shivers  in  your  way, 
With  critical  and  scrutinizing  eye, 
Note  every  pin  we  chance  to  stick  awry — 
Misrepresent   our  sex  as  monstrous  creatures, 
As  faithless  mirrors  mar  the  brightest  features, 
And  Quixotte-like  deal  doughty  random  blows 
To  overthrow  imaginary  beaux, 
Make  effigies  of  straw,  then  claim  renown 
For  prowess  shewn  in  hunting  of  them  down, 
Your  straggling  Pegasus,  as  I  perpend, 
Will  founder  long  before  his  journey's  end  ; 


75 

By  well  bred  critics,  you'll  be  dubb'd,  I  fear, 

Rather  a  caviller  than  a  cavallier  ; 

Your  rambling  dissertation  will  be  said 

To  be  a  labyrinth  without  a  thread — 

Your  favourite  themes  of  foppery  and  flirtation, 

Are  foreign  quite  to  female  education. 

MENTOR. 

-"Tis  education  forms  the  tender  mind, 

Just  as  the  twig  is  bent  the  tree's  inclin'd" 

This  hacknied  adage,  not  more  trite  than  true, 

Applies  with  most  propriety  to  you, 

Life's  cares  are  apt  to  counteract   the  checks 

Of  education  in  the  ruder  sex, 

In  woman's  mind  the  characters  first  trac'd 

Are  much  less  liable  to  be  eras'd, 

Hence  woman's  almost  every  aberration, 

Flows  from  some  fault  in  early  education. 

Though  beauty's  province  can  but  ill  afford 
The  laurels  of  the  sceptre  or  the  sword, 
No  valid  reason  thence  can  be  assign'd, 


76 

Against  improvement  of  the  female  mind, 

The  fairer  sex  are  blest  with  mental  powers, 

Which  well  may  bear  comparison  with  ours, 

Different  in  kind,  but  equal  in  degree, 

'Tis  surely  then  a  most  unjust  decree, 

Which  dooms  your  beauties,  frivolous  and  vain, 

To  lavish  life  away  in  fashion's  train, 

As  if  like  Turks  we  held  that  G  od  had  giv'n 

The  sex  no  souls,  nor  made  them  heirs  of  heaven  ; 

Their  duties  in  the  most  secluded  station, 

Demand  a  mind  improv'd  by  education, 

As  mothers,  sisters,  mistresses  and  wives, 

They  give,support,  sooth,  sweeten,  charm  our  lives; 

In  every  station,  destiny  or  sphere, 

The  fruits  of  education  will  appear. 

Perhaps  as  mothers  of  the  human  race, 
Your  influence  shews  its  most  important  trace, 
A  mother's  care  should  form  the  infant  mind 
To  knowledge,  virtue,  sentiment  refin'd, 
Her  plastic  hand  bids  virtue's  cion  shoot, 
Or  blasts  its  blossom  and  extirps  its  root, 


77 

She  bids  the  aascent  sage  or  hero  aim, 

By  honour's  path  to  climb  the  steep  of  fame, 

Or  she  debases  into  low  pursuits, 

Like  Circe  changes  human  kind  to  brutes  ; 

Thus  Spartan  mothers  their  bold  offspring  steel'd? 

Sent  them  invincible  to  glory's  field.(24) 

Cornelia,  noble,  and  ambitious  dame, 

Thus  fann'd  that  spark  of  glory  to  a  flame, 

Which  urg'd  the  patriot-brothers  to  their  doom, 

And  the  fond  parent  triumph'd  o'er  their  tomb,(25) 

Thus  Nero's  mother  was  the  instigator, 

Of  every  crime  of  every  name  and  nature, 

Maternal  influence  likewise  did  impart, 

To  Borgia,  model  ofsatanic  art, 

His  serpent-head,  and  adamantine  heart. (26) 

Let  those  to  whom  the  task  may  be  assign'd, 
The  important  task  to  mould  the  infant  mind, 
With  ceaseless  care,  and  diligence  inspect, 
The  earliest  buddings  oi  the  intellect, 
The  shoots  of  vanity  and  pride  erase, 

And  sow  the  seeds  of  wisdom  in  their  place. 
7  * 


78 

The  infant  mind  not  long  remains  a  blank, 

The  weeds  of  vice  soon  spring  up  wild  and  rankr 

In  every  mental  field,  not  early  till'd, 

And  virtue's  finest  plants  are  chok'd  and  kill'dr 

But  fashion's  tares  the  produce  rarely  spoil, 

Of  a  correctly  cultivated  soil. 

Let  the  first  lessons  given  to  female  youth 
Be  fraught  with  moral  and  religious  truth, 
And  every  sentiment,  which  you  impart, 
At  once  improve  the  head  and  mend  the  heart. 
IVever  pervert  the  young  imagination 
With  tales  of  terror,  fancy's  fabrication, 
Teach  her  the  scale  of  reason  to  apply, 
To  every  thing  which  meets  the  ear  or  eye  ; 
Nor  fill  her  little  head  with  whims  and  fancies, 
You  must  obliterate  as  life  advances. 
*Tis  worse  than  useless,  labour  to  bestow, 
in  planting  seeds  you  canuot  wish  should  grow, 
When  you,  perhaps,  may  find  your  efforts  vain, 
To  extirpate  those  very  seeds  again. 
In  words  and  actions  cautions  and  correct, 


70 

Despise  that  gibberish-nursery-dialecf, 

Which  silly  people  are  so  apt  to  use, 

The  faculties  of  infants  to  abuse  ; 

Let  tales  of  goblin,  ghost,  or  church  yard  sprite. 

Or  grisly  apparition  cloth'd  in  white, 

Death-watches,  omens,  never  meet  her  sarj 

The  mind  t'  enslave  with  superstitious  fear. 

Study  the  texture  of  the  pupil's  mind, 
As  with  a  microscope  that  you  may  find, 
What  faults  or  foibles  interwoven  there, 
Demand  your  earliest  counteracting  care, 
Erase  each  sully,  while  it  yet  is  rife, 
Which  else  might  blurr  the  character  for  life. 

If  little  Miss  should  boast  of  beauty  bright, 
Consult  her  glass  with  symptoms  of  delight. 
Doat  on  her  charms,  as  misers  doat  on  pell 
And  like  Narcissus  pines  for  pretty  self, 
Check  her  betimes,  before  too  late  you  find 
Self  love  the  ruling  passion  of  her  mind  ; 
Ere  she  assume  those  gestures,  and  grimaces, 


80 

Which  pretty  simpletons  mistake  for  graces, 
Who  set  themselves  up  beauties  by  profession, 
And  think  to  hold  all  hearts  in  their  possession, 
(As  boys  string  bird's  eggs  on  a  bit  of  thread) 
By  charms,  which  rival  goddesses  might  dread. 

When  first  she  seems  solicitous  to  trace 
The  budding  beauties  of  a  blooming  face, 
Tell  her,  though  now,  so  comely  to  the  sight, 
She  might  have  been,  and  still  may  be  a  fright — 
That  mental  charms  give  beauty  to  the  features, 
But  pretty  idiots  are  most  ugly  creatures — 
That  beauty,  when  by  vanity  alloy'd, 
For  all  good  purposes  is  quite  destroy'd — 
That  'twould  be  great  impiety  to  venture 
To  boast  of  charms,  which  Providence  but  lent  her, 
Which  if  they  merely  serve  to  make  her  vain, 
He  who  bestow'd  will  take  away  again — 
That,  should  she  'scape  diseases,  which  await 
All  mortals  in  a  sublunary  state, 
Which  blight  the  brightest  beauty  in  the  bloom, 
And  send  the  charmer  to  an  early  tomb. 


81 

Tet  youth's  gay  holiday  will  soon  be  past, 
The  thoughtless-fair  one  will  be  doom'd  at  last 
To  such  a  gallant  as  she  does  not  dream  on, 
Old,  spiteful,  ugly  as  a  very  demon, 
Ee'n  gaffer  Time  will  riot  on  her  charms, 
And  hug  her  life  out  in  his  shrivell'd  arms  f 

Is  she  inordinately  fond  of  dress, 
Maxims  like  these  'twere  proper  to  impress, 
The  gay  habiliments  of  art  must  yield 
To  simplest  flowerets  that  adorn  the  field — 
That  spite  of  fashion's  efforts  so  absurd, 
To  dress  a  lady  like  a  humming-bird, 
Full  many  a  despicable  worm  and  snake 
Wear  finer  robes  than  art  could  ever  make — 
Could  she  appear  like  Esther  at  a  feast, 
Blazing  in  all  the  diamonds  of  the  east, 
While  plunder'd  provinces  are  put  to  rack, 
To  decorate  her  royal  head  and  back, 
Her  regal  robes  could  not  in  splendor  vie 
With  the  apparel  of  a  butterfly. 


Are  angry  passions  potent  to  molest 
The  little  sanctuary  of  her  breast, 
Display  themselves,  as  discipline  permits, 
In  sullen,  peevish,  or  outrageous  fits, 
Your  moral  antidotes  betimes  apply 
Before  the  mental  fever  rages  high, 
For  soon  it  baffles  every  human  art 
To  drive  the  poison  from  the  tainted  heart. 
You  may  present  the  furious  little  lass 
With  her  own  image  in  a  looking  glass — 
Tell  her  the  passion  which  her  peaxe  annoys, 
Disturbs  her  person,  and  her  mind  destroys, 
Can  only  serve  to  make  her  tortur'd  breast 
An  emblem  of  a  raging  hornet's  nest ; 
Her  friends  will  shun  her  as  they  would  a  toacJ, 
Or  rattle  snake  that  hisses  in  the  road — 
That  ladies  who  such  paltry  passions  share, 
Should  wear,  like  furies,  snakes  instead  of  hair — 
That  anger's  slave  must  serve  the  worst  of  masters, 
Expos'd  each  hour  to  terrible  disasters, 
And  in  a  moment  may  be  led  astray, 
The  guilty  victim  of  some  sad  affray, 


83 

Then  to  some  tale  or  adage  have  recourse, 
Your  precepts  to  illustrate  and  enforce— 
Tell  how  the  haughty  conqueror  of  the  world, 
By  passion's  power  from  glory's  summit  hurl'<3, 
His  guilty  hand  in  friendly  blood  imbued, 
Sunk  self  abas'd,  though  never  self  subdued — 
A  mighty  warrior,  a  ferocious  elf, 
Who  rul'd  a  world  but  could  not  rule  himself. (27) 
Describe  a  method  sometimes  us'd  of  old 
To  quell  the  fury  of  a  common  scold. 
When  fever  heat  infallibly  to  cool, 
To  beldam  seated  on  a  ducking  stool,, 
The  merry  mob  applied  the  gelid  bath* 
A  sovereign  antidote  to  powerless  wrath. 
And  oftentimes,  sans  medical  advice, 
Cur'd  petulant  eruptions  in  a  trice. (28) 

To  tame  a  shrew  you  must  betimes  begin, 
Ere  pamper'd  passion  such  ascendant  win, 
Reason  may  find  her  every  effort  vain, 
To  re-assume  her  abdicated  reign. 
But  if  you  find  the  temper  of  a  child, 


"By  nature  timid,  delicate  and  mild, 
Be  cautious  lest  a  discipline  severe 
Should  be  the  cause  of  many  a  needless  tear, 
Feelings  excite  of  that  indignant  kind, 
Which  serve  to  harden,  and  depress  the  mind, 
If  reasoning  fails,  and  punish  her  you  must, 
Make  her  perceive  the  punishment  is  just, 
Ere  you  correct  the  culprit,  let  her  know, 
Friendship,  not  anger,  meditates  the  Mow. 
You  spare  the  rod,   and  you  may  spoil  tfce  child, 
And  yet  the  rod  has  many  children  spoil'd, 
And  parents  often  play  the  tyrant's  part, 
To  break  the  temper  till  they  break  the  heart. 
Teachers  of  youth,  of  either  sex  there  are, 
Whose  rigor  drives  their  pupils  to  despair. 
No  winning  arts  the  autocrats  can  please, 
Their  little  charge  ne'er  know  a  moment's  ease, 
The  awful  apparatus,  plac'd  before  them, 
The  rod  and  ferule,  hung  up  in  terrorem, 
Bid  slavish  fear,  the  faculties  enchain, 
Numb  every  nerve  and  petrify  the  brain. 


85 

There  lives  in  Buzzardshire  one  Master  Gruff, 
A  thorough  book-worm,  absolute,  and  rough. 
With  manners  ruder  than  a  dancing  bear, 
His  learning  gave  him  a  preceptor's  chair. 
Entitled  him,  on  Doctor  Busby's  level, 
To  homage  such  as  Indians  pay  the  devil. 
A  frightful  frown  his  beetling  brow  deform*, 
And  e'en  his  smiles  are  harbingers  of  storms ; 
No  slave-compelling  despot  of  Algiers, 
In  greater  mimic*majesty  appears — 
He  never  deigns  to  touch  affection's  chords  ; 
His  blue  Zat»5,  never  sanction'd  by  rewards, 
Seem  form'd  by  Athens'  sanguinary  sage, 
Or  rescripts  of  inquisitorial  rage. 
His  pupils  in  the  pedagogue  descry 
A  Jove  that  rarely  lays  his  thunders  by. 
Not  the  most  trivial  mark  of  approbation 
Repays  the  most  successful  application  ; 
Save  when  king  scorpion,  plays  the  monarch  log, 
From  morn  to  night,  'tis  mutter,  scold  and  flog. 
The  trembling  younkers,  harden'd  by  degrees, 

Dismiss  the  hope,  and  loose  the  wish  to  please 
8 


86 

Take  the  first  step?,  with  desperation  callous, 
"Which  persevere!  in  lead  them  to  the  gallows. 

I've  known  a  youth  his  lessen  con  with  care, 
Till  he  could  say  it  like  a  witch's  prayer, 
Backwards  or  forwards,  sideways  or  across, 
Among  his  playmates  never  at  a  loss, 
Yet,  summoned  by  his  tyrant  master's  call, 
The  frighten' d  innocent  had  lost  it  all, 
Was  dubb'd  a  dunce,  whipp'd,  orderd  to  depart,, 
With  mind  embruted,  and  a  broken  heart. 

When  constant  fears  the  faculties  overwhelm,, 
Judgment,  and  memory  desert  the  helm, 
The  mind,  at  length  is  paraliz'd  with  dread, 
A  sword,  suspended  o'er  a  student's  head, 
Would  little  aid  a  mental  exercise, 
Or  help  to  gain  a  literary  prize. 
And  childrea  beat'n  like  breaking  asses'  coltt* 
Are  disciplin'd  to  villains  or  to  dolts.(29) 


87 

NARCISSA. 

By  s«nie  good  writers  publick  schools  are  tavd 
With  discipline  improperly  relax'd, 
Cowper  condemns  them  in  severest  style, 
As  almost  nuisances  in  Britain's  Isle. 
"  Would  you  your  son  should  be  a  sot  or  dunce, 
Lascivious,  headstrong,  or  all  these  at  once, 
That,  in  good  time  the  stripling's  finish'd  taste 
May  prove  your  ruin,  and  his  own  at  last, 
Train  him  in  publick  with  a  herd  of  boys, 
Children  in  mischief  only  and  in  noise." 
So  sings  the  British  bard,  and  most  maintain 
That  teachers  govern  with  too  lax  a  rein, 
Sure  then  'tis  hardly  orthodox  to  dream 
Of  danger  in  the  opposite  extreme. 

MENTOR. 

'Tir difficult,  in  discipline's  career, 
Rightly  between  the  two  extremes  to  steer^ 
The  rough  and  sturdy  younker  to  command, 
Requires  a  heavy,  and  a  steady  hand, 
jBut  means  to  check  the  burly  and  the  bold 


88 

Might  ruin  tempers  of  a  milder  mould  j 
The  reign  of  terror  frequently  we  find, 
Beyond  recovery  blasts  the  growth  of  mind. 
For  slavish  apprehension's  stern  control, 
Freezes  the"  genial  current  of  the  soul  ;" 
And  too  much  licence  suffers  youth  to  stray. 
Along  destruction's  broad  and  beaten  way. 

The  pupil's  genius,  rank  and  destination 
Should  be  consulted  in  her  education, 
Let  not  your  lessons  open  to  her  view 
A  path  she  cannot  possibly  pursue  ; 
Nor  fill  her  head  with  fine,  fallacious  schemes, 
With  grandeur's  gorgeous  and  deceitful  dreams- 
Present  no  prospects  to  her  wishful  eyes 
Which  she  can  never  hope  to  realize, 
Thus  make  existence  one  continual  strife^ 
Agaiust  the  sad  realities  of  life. 

Though  formerly,  as  Addison  has  written, 
There  were  no  women  to  be  found  in 
But  all  were  ladiesy  the  Spectator  said, 


89 

"  Though  born  in  garrets,  and  in  kitchens  bred," 

From  Anne  the  Queen,  who  fill'd  the  throne  of  State, 

To  Moll,  the  quean  enthron'd  in  Billingsgate ; — (30) 

Though  this  is  freedom's  highly  favoured  land, 

Where  all  of  course  must  have  the  upper  hand — 

Where  every  female,  past  the  age  often, 

Becomes  a  lady,  pray  what  follows  then  ? 

With  all  the  plans,  a  Tom  Paine  could  contrive, 

Our  body  politick  will  never  thrive, 

Whate'er  our  July  orators  have  said, 

Unless  its  heels  are  lower  than  its  head, 

Let  friends  to  anarchy  new  dogmas  twist, 

And   still  distinctions  must  and  will  exist. 

To  give  a  learn'd  and  polish'd  education, 

To  one  pre-destin'd  to  a  menial  station, 

Is  taking  pains  to  teach  a  part  in  fact, 

The  pupil  never  can  be  call'd  to  act, 

A  part  moreover,  which  must  be  forgot^ 

To  reconcile  her  to  her  humble  lot. 

Fine  arts  are  useless  to  a  country  charmer. 

The  future  help-mate  of  an  hottest  farmer, 
8  * 


so 

Graces,  and  airs,  though  ever  so  bewitching, 

Little  become  the  dairy  and  the  kitchen — 

A  Miss  may  chaunt  a  lullaby,  quite  prettily, 

Without  the  aid  of  Signior  Squeak,  from  Italy. 

Yet  some  fond  parents,  with  less  brains  than  cash. 

Wishing  thair  "  dafters  de«r"  to  cut  a  dash,     [awayT 

Their  hard-earn'd  gains  have   worse  than   thrown 

Teaching  their  sweet  Jemimas  to  display 

The  half-accomplish'd,  semi-genteel  foolr 

In  Lady  Hawbuck's  country  boarding  school, 

Where  village  maids  are  taught  to  write  and  read  ill. 

And  plaia  cloth  to  disfigure  with  a  needle — 

To  paint  a  thing,  to  make  "  the  old  ones"  stare, 

A  pig,  a  puppj7  bullock  or  a  bear, 

But  which  of  these  the  artist  would  pourtray, 

No  mortal  save  a  conjuror  can  say. 

A  little  French  is  learn'd  by  rote  perhaps, 

Useful  infilling  conversation  gaps, 

And  with  a  quantity  of  novel  reading 

Makes  up  a  lady  of  prodigioiu  breeding  ! 

Who,  by  herself,  at  least  is  look'd  upon, 

As  quite  .the  tip-end  of  the  topmost  ton  t 


91 

With  such  accomplishments,  and  so  much  learning^ 

Our  finish'd  lady  cannot  help  discerning 

Her  parents  are  uncouth  and  countrified, 

Whom  educated  people  can't  abide — 

Disdains  to  pay  to  vulgar  folks  so  rude, 

Pier  debt  of  duty  and  of  gratitude, 

Such  obligations  she  believes  design'd 

Merely  for  people  of  the  lowest  kind — 

Now  execrates  that  pitiable  lot, 

Which  dooms  her  talents  to  a  country  cot, 

In  fruitless  plaints  expectorates  her  spleen, 

That  so  much  beauty's  "  born  to  blush  unseen," 

And  if  some  ensign,  or  recruiting  sergeant, 

Admires  said  beauty,  and  will  take  the  charge  on't, 

She  finds  herself  the  next  imprudent  step, 

A  soldier's  trull,  or  vagrant  demi-rep. 

NARCISSA. 

Oh  monstrous  !  wouldst  thou,  with  a  Gothic  hand1? 
Destroy  our  Ladies'  schools  throughout  the  land", 
And  plough  their  sites  to  raise  potatoe-crops, 
Or  turn  them  into  barns,  or  black-smith'*  shops  ? 


92 

» 

Such  work  of  ruin  would,  beyond  comparison, 
Surpass  the  ravages  of  Hun  or  Saracen. 

MENTOR. 

No  Lady,  but  the  world  shall  be  my  debtor, 
For  certain  hints  to  regulate  them  better. 
First  let  each  teacher  be  well  qualified 
To  be  a  female's  guardian  friend  and  guide, 
When  at  a  tender,  inexperienc'd  age, 
She  first  comes  forward  on  life's  slippery  stage 
Next  let  the  pupils'  studies,  occupations, 
Be  suited  to  their  geniuses  and  stations — 
Be  such   as  cannot  fail  in  life's  career, 
To  make  them  useful  in  their  proper  sphere* 
"  Honour  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise, 
Act  well  your  part  there  all  the  honour  lies." 
'Tis  folly  then  for  one  to  crack  his  head 
Striving  to  hammer  gold  leaf  out  of  lead, 
Nor  greater  wisdom  can'  a  teacher  boast, 
Who  thinks  to  change  a  dowdy  to  a  toast. 
If  one  could  alter  Abigails  and  Nellies, 
With  three  months'  schooling  into  Cinderellas, 


>• 


93 

The  transformation  doubtless,  would  undo  them, 

Unless  they  could  find  princes  proud  to  woo  them, 

To  set  a  lass,  who  should  be  taught  to  spin, 

A  daubing  canvas  is  a  glaring  sin  ; 

And  some  embroiderers  had  much  better  le  are 

To  twirl  the  distaff,  and  to  dash  the  churn, 

Than  spend  their  time  poor  patch-work  to  produce., 

Unfit  for  either  ornament  or  use. 

There  is  a  class  of  flaring  would-be  beauties, 
Who  fain  would  rise  above  life's  cares  and  duties, 
With  little  minds  and  ordinary  faces, 
Would  set  themselves  up  goddesses  and  graces  ; 
But  when  gross  bodies  undertake  to  soar, 
Their  flighty  efforts  serve  to  sink  them  lower, 
So  half-way  ladies  finish  their  career 
Beneath  the  level  of  their  proper  sphere, 
And  make  themselves  affected  laughing  stock?, 
Like  Jilsop's  frog,  who  strove  to  ape  the  ox. 
You  cannot  well  teach  optics  to  the  blind, 
Nor  make  Minervas  where  there's  little  mind, 


And  spite  of  muslins,  gauzes,  and  brocades, 
Beauties,  like  poets  must  be  born  not  made. 

NARCISSA. 

Ladies- Academies  are  well,  perhaps, 
As  theatres  in  which  to  set  our  caps, 
Serve  as  apdlogies  beyond  a  doubt, 
For  what  is  call'd  in  London  "  coming  outf 
Misses,  who  lire  at  a  secluded  distance, 
In  solitude  might  while  away  existence, 
Sans  some  excuse  to  shew  their  airs  and  face? 
In  country  towns,  and  other  publick  places, 
Where  lovely  Lauras  may,  perhaps  be  woo'd 
By  sighing  Strephons  of  the  neighborhood. 
A  nymph,  though  counterpart  to  beauty's  queen, 
Will  rarely  be  admird  if  seldom  seen. 
We  find  no  swains  to  roam  our  wildernesses, 
In  quest  of  Dryads   and  of  Shepherdesses, 
No  Corydons  to  pipe  by  purling  fountains, 
Andchace  coy  Daphnes  over  venlant  mountains. 


MENTOR. 

Our  Ladies  schools  then  you  would  set  apart. 
And  licence  each  a  matrimonial  mart, 
Where  sweetest  seraphim,  beneath  the  sun. 
By  merest  mortals  may  be  woo'd  and  won. 
Still  rustic  Corydon,  if  not  a  fool, 
Won't  choose  his  Daphne  from  a  boarding  school, 
For  fear  his  /a%,  when  a  farmer's  wife^ 
Should  chance  to    long  for  what  is  call'd  high  life, 
Be  liable  to  fits  of  whims  and  fancies, 
Which  might  prove  mortal  to  her  dear's  finances. 

Though  public  schools  no  doubt  in  certain  cases. 
For  teaching  fine  arts,  sciences  and  graces, 
Are  useful  under  certain  regulations, 
For  pupils  destin'd  to  the  higher  stations, 
Some  grave  good  authors,  it  must  be  confest, 
Have  thought  a  private  education  best  ;(31) 
Besides  the  seminaries  of  the  kind, 
To  what  is  styl'd  the  better  sor/confin'd. 
May  be  the  means  of  leaving  channels  dry. 
Which  should  our  common,  village-schools  supply. 


So 

To  mould  the  mental  features  of  the  fair 
Is  best  entrusted  to  a  mother's  care, 
Unless  by  nature,  or  bj  education, 
She  lacks  the  requisites  for  such  a  station  ; 
Some  female  friend,  in  such  unhappy  case 
Should  be  selected  to  supply  her  place, 
But  let  no  small  degree  of  care  attend, 
The  choice  of  such  a  confidential  friend, 
On  whom  a  patent's  dearest  hopes  depend. 

Should  you  perceive  by  indications  clear, 
Your  pupil  born  to  grace  a  higher  sphere, 
Be  doubly  sedulous  to  train  her  mind, 
To  virtue,  knowledge,  and  to  taste  refin'd. 
From  Edgworth's  tales  select  each  pleasing  page.* 
Adapted  to  the  pupil's  sex  and  age, 
And  as  the  intellect  becomes  mature, 
To  higher  subjects  her  attention  lure, 
In  the  best  British  classics  you  may  find 
Much  to  enrich  the  treasury  of  mind, 
Select  their  jewels  and  unite  to  those 
Some  cis-atlantic  works  in  verse  and  prose, 


91 

And  cull  from  Dennie,  Humphreys,  Barlow,  Dwight 

And  Livingstone,  whatever  may   unite 

Lessons  of  profit,  prudence  and  delight. 

The  poets  furnish  much  improper  trash, 

Not  Macbeth's  witches  could  have  made  a  hash 

More  poisonous  than  the  venom,  which  emlmes  " 

The  works  of  many  a  noted  British  muse, 

The  "  witty,  dirty,  patriotic  Dean," 

The  kennels  rak'd  for  similes  unclean. 

Much  of  the  mirth  of  Prior's  comic  Muse 

Seems  calculated  only  for  the  stews. 

Keen  are  his  jests,  tales  laughable,  but  then, 

Such  tainted  viands,  season'd  with  cayenne, 

Though  food  in  which  wild  libertines  delight 

Can  only  suit  a  bestial  appetite. 

The  mightiest  masters  of  the  British  lyre, 

Too  oft  have  tamper'd  with  unhallow'd  fire. 

E'en  Pope  and  Dry  den,  High  Priests  of  the  Nine, 

Have  bow'd  to  Baal,  and  sacrific'd  to  swine, 

And  literary  scavengers  think  fit 

To  rake  the  kennels  fof  each  scrap  of  wit,(32) 

To  which  some  loose  and  giddy  hour  gave  birtb, 
9 


98 

To  furnish  food  for  Bacchanalian  mirth. 

Productions  vile,  whose  origin  we  trace 

To  want  of  cash  and  greater  want  of  grace, 

Are  thus  brought  forward  with  the  highest  claims — 

Beneath  the  sanction  of  the  noblest  names — 

Books  manufactured  of  the  grossest  kind, 

Which  should  be  letter'd,  "  poison  for  the  mmd"-r~ 

And  thus  the  authors'  characters  we  blot 

By  lines,  which,  living,  they  had  wish'd  forgot, 

And  sentiments,  which  dying,  conscience  smitten, 

They  would  have  given  worlds  they  had  not  written. 

The  lucid  language  and  the  dark  designs 

Of  Moore's  delusive  fascinating  lines, 

Betray  a  much  more  deleterious  drift, 

Than  e'en  the  coarsest  images  of  Swift, 

And,  like  the  tales  Monk-Lewis  fabricated, 

Are  more  seductive,  and  more  calculated 

For  leading  female  innocence  astray, 

Than  grossest  ribaldry  of  Rabelais. 

There  are  editions  of  the  British  bards, 
Where  decency  has  met  its  due  regards, 


99 

With  not  a  word  or  sentiment  retain'd 
By  which  the  soul  of  purity  is  pain'd, 
And  I  could  wish  that  only  such  as  those 
Might  a  young  lady's  library  compose. (33) 

Both  sexes  should  in  infancy  be  taught 
To  read  no  book,  to  entertain  no  thought, 
Which,  were  they  urg'd  in  publick  to  proclaim, 
The  cheek  would  mantle  with  the  flush  of  shame, 
Let  them  remember  they  can  never  fly 
An  omnipresent  and  omniscient  eye, 
No  subterfuge,  no  secresy  imparts 
Exemption  from  the  searches'  of  all  hearts. 
But  there  exists  a  prudery  of  mind, 
A  delicacy  over  much  refin'd, 
A  modesty,  which  every  touch  can  wound 
Which  shews  its  owner  rather  sore  than  sound, 
That  fabrick,  which  the  slightest  breeze  can  shock, 
Is  not  a  building  founded  on  a  rock. 
Whene'er  a  perspicacity  absurd, 
Spies  something  wrong  in  every  look  and  word, 


100 

Takes  great  offence,  with  no  offence  design'd, 
The  fault  that's  found  is  in  the  finder's  mind. 

Geography  and  history  should  afford, 
Their  treasures  to  your  pupil's  mental  hoard, 
Treasures  which  conversation  may  produce, 
And  conduct  turn  to  some  some  substantial  use — 
Bid  her  adore  the  works  of  her  creator, 
As  manifest  in  animated  nature, 
In  rudiments  of  botany  discern 
Omniscient  power,  and  all  admiring  turn, 
With  astronomic  tube,  God's  works  to  trace 
Through  the  high  heaven's  illimitable  space, 
Those  boundless  realms  where  countless  planets  rolh 
And  worlds  on  worlds  form  one  stupendous  whole. 

Now  introduce  her  to  the  sacred  choir, 
Of  bards  who  sweep  the  consecrated  lyre, 
And  bid  her  innocent  infantile  tongue 
Repeat  the  strains  of  Milton,  Watts  and  Young, 
Which  mortals  teach  the  language  of  the  skies, 
And  heav'n  unfold  to  our  enraptur'd  eyes. 


101 

Teach  her  to  prize  beyond  all  Ophir's  gold 

Truths  which  the  bible  only  can  unfold, 

Disclose  those  mysteries  of  a  future  state, 

Philosophy  can  ne'er  investigate  ; 

In  reason's  dawn  that  sacred  light  display, 

That  emanation  of  eternal  day, 

Which,  lacking  erst,  the  best  of  heathen  were 

Children  of  darkness,  pupils  of  despair. 

Let  the  young  mind  its  earliest  efforts  bend 

To  gain  a  heavenly,  and  Almighty  Friend, 

Whose  smile  that  beatific  beam  displays, 

Which  makes  the  sunshine  of  our  brightest  days, 

And  smooths  the  bed  of  languishment  and  pain, 

A  sure  support  when  earthly  aid  is  vain. 

Dress  not  religion  in  a  garb  of  gloom 
The  hopes  of  happiness  beyond  the  tomb, 
This  life's  enjoyment  never  can  decrease, 
For  true  religion's  paths  are  paths  of  peace, 

Epistolary  writing  should  comprise 

Part  of  your  pupil's  mental  exercise, 
* 


102 

Which  teaches  thoughts  in  "  proper  words"  to  dress, 

Teaches  to  think  as  well  as  to  express, 

And  often  opens  where  we  least  expect, 

What  may  be  sty  I'd  a  mine  of  intellect. 

But  too  much  time  in  composition,  may 

If  prematurely  spent,  be  thrown  away  ; 

First  let  her  gain  materials  fit  for  thought, 

For  nought  but  nothing  is  produced  from  nought, 

The  stale  effusions  of  an  empty  head, 

Are  not  worth  writing  and  will  scarce  be  read. 

They  make,  whatever  chance  to  be  the  theme, 

The  vapid  whimsies  of  a  waking  dream, 

The  lawless  offspring  of  imagination, 

Which  soils  the  paper  and  the  reputation, 

By  meet  instruction  labour  to  insure 
A  style  grammatical,  and  diction  pure, 
Mark  and  avoid  provincial  words  and  phrases,(34) 
And  shun  those  wildering  metaphoric  mazes, 
Which  merely  serve  the  meaning  to  obscure, 
And  form  a  style  inflated  and  impure. 
To  skill  in  figures,  plain  book-keeping  join, 


103 

And  lead  your  pupil  to  Apollo's  shrine, 

Not  to  adore  the  idle  heathen  God, 

Nor  wait  subservient  on  the  Muses'  nod, 

But  merely  as  a  holiday  resort, 

To  learn  the  language  of  the  Delphic  court. 

A  task  in  rhyming  no\v  and  then,  bestows 
A  sort  of  happiness  in  writing  prose, 
The  poet,  led  to  glance  the  language  through, 
Before  his  proper  epithet's  in  view, 
By  due  degrees  insensibly  is  taught 
What  forms  of  speech  best  decorate  a  thought. 
"  Though  few  there  are,  who  feel  indeed  the  fire 
The  muse  imparts,  and  can  command  the  lyre, 
Can  sweep  the  strings  with  such  a  power,  so  loud, 
The  storm  of  music  shakes  th'  astonish'd  crowd,"* 
Most  may  themselves,  amuse — perhaps  their  friends 
By  measur'd  lines,  which  gingle  at  their  ends. 
Which  though  not  quite  to  extacy  refin'd, 
May  serve  to  strengthen  and  improve  the  mind. 

*Cowper. 


104 

Some  other  callings  only  claim  a  place, 
Where  liberal  nature  furnishes  the  base, 
Musicians,  painters,  look  to  her  for  aid, 
And  like  the  poet  must  be  "  born  not  made," 
Their  arts  essay'd  with  inauspicious  stars, 
You  daub  the  canvas,  the  piano  jars. 
The  portrait  frowns,  in  lamentable  tones, 
The  fiddle  screams,  the  violoncello  groans, 
The  voice  presents  as  dissonant  a  note, 
As  ever  broke  from  boding  screech  owl's  throat, 
Vengeance  invoking  on  the  violator 
Of  the  immutable  decrees  of  nature. 

. 

In  fit  amusements  let  some  time  be  spent, 
The  bow  is  weaken'd  that  is  ever  bent, 
The  pupil's  health  should  be  the  teacher's  care, 
Light  food,  due  exercise,  salubrious  air, 
Are  means  by  which  those  blessings  are  combin'd, 
A  healthy  body  and  a  vigorous  mind. 

Too  oft  a  powerful  intellect  is  spoil'd, 
By  rash  attempts  to  make  a  learned  child, 


105 

Precocious  talents,  urg'd  to  their  display^ 
Will  "  o'er  inform  this  tenement  of  clay,'* 

a 

And  tend  at  length  to  premature  decay. 

Weakness  of  body  must  at  length  be  join'd, 

By  corresponding  feebleness  of  mind. 

Since  the  most  precious  hordes  of  mental  vrealthj. 

Furnish  no  recompense  for  loss  ©f  health, 

The  robust  blockhead's  happier,  past  a  doubt, 

Than  Bayles  orBentleys  tortur'd  with  the  gout.(35) 

Let  no  example  of  a  looser  kind 
Impart  contagion  to  a  youthful  mind. 
Children  are  censors,  critical  and  shrewd, 
By  whom  our  conduct  is  minutely  view'd, 
They  mark  each  action,  treasure  every  word, 
And  what  is  wicked,  whimsical,  absurd, 
Makes  an  impression  which  too  late  you  find, 
Deeply  indented  on  the  youthful  mind. 

Example  is  the  most  effective  mode, 
By  which  the  pearls  of  wisdom  are  bestow'd, 


And  'twill  be  vain,  with  seraph-tongue  to  teachj 
Unless  you  practice  principles  you  teach. 

Hold  forth  as  models  worthy  imitation, 
Illustrious  females  of  each  age  and  nation, 
If  blest  with  genius  teach  her  mind  to  soar, 
To  Tie  with  Edgworth,  Burney,  Adams,  More,, 
A  poet's  fancy,  you  may  bid  it  glow, 
Kindled  to  rapture  at  the  shrine  of  Rowe. 
But  if  their  talents  are  denied  by  fate, 
Their  virtues  surely  she  may  emulate. 

Let  the  associates  of  her  early  youth 
Be  known  for  virtue,  modesty,  and  truth, 
And  no  pert  belles,  nor  misses  over-smart, 
Corrupt  her  morals,  and  deprave  her  heart, 
Domestics  choose,  if  possible,  alone 
From  those  whose  characters  are  fully  known  ; 
Whose  converse  and  examples  may  impart, 
Nought  which  can  soil  that  purity  of  heart, 
Which  once  destroy'd,  adieu  to  every  grace, 
Wit,  wealth,  and  science  cannot  fill  its  place, 


107 

And  all  the  Cyprian  goddess  can  confer, 
Is  but  the  painting  of  the  sepulchre. 
In  reason's  dawning,  teach  her  to  despise 
The  shuffling  wile,  and  subterfuge  of  lies, 
And  let  confession  commonly  attone, 
For  faults  to  which  her  infancy  is  prone, 
Unless  you  find  that  malice  in  th'  intent, 
Which  calls  imperiously  for  punishment, 

However  high  the  station  of  the  fair, 
Hewever  promising  her  prospects  are, 
Still  let  it  be  your  study  to  impart, 
A  knowledge  of  each  necessary  art, 
By  which  she  may,  should  adverse  fortune  lower, 
Defy  gaunt  poverty's  distressing  power, 
She  should  be  taught,  betimes  to  overlook, 
With  skilful  eye  the  dairy  maid  and  cook, 
And  every  duty,  care,  and  occupation, 
That  is  incumbent  on  a  house-wife's  station — 
What  time,  and  toil,  and  method  it  would  ask 
To  properly  complete  each  household  task — 
Should  know,  while  tracing  h«r  domestic  round, 


168  • 

What  servants  worthy,  and  what  worthless  found, 

Industrious,  indolent,  or  indiscreet, 

Her  censure,  merit,  or  applause  should  meet. 

Still  let  some  faithful  monitorial  eye, 
As  far  as  possible  be  ever  nigh, 
To  watch  your  pupil's  every  sportive  hour, 
And  counteract  each  subtle  tempter's  power. 
If  children  may,  the  moment  out  of  school 
Throw  off  restraints  of  discipline  and  rule, 
Escap'd  their  parents,  and  their  teacher's  view, 
Join  with  some  thoughtless  and  abandon'd  crew, 
'Tis  to  be  feard  your  efforts  will  he  vain, 
To  find  an  antidote  to  such  a  bane, 
Nor  can  the  hours,  devoted  to  instruction, 
Obliterate  the  stains  of  their  seduction. 

> 

But  while  the  rising  generation  are 

% 
Objects  of  tender,  and  judicious  care 

From  such  attentions  cautiously  refrain 
As  serve  to  make  them  volatile  and  vain, 
Full  many  a  garrulous  and  giddy  child 


109 

Pond  flattering  fools  have  sedulously  spoil'd, 
And  turn'd  them  o'er  to  vanity's  dominion, 
Great  personages  in  their  own  opinion, 
Whose  talents  give  a  licence  to  dispense, 
With  prudence,  decency  and  common  sense — 
Lead  them  to  count  economy  a  hoax, 
A  sor'did  virtue  made  for  vulgar  folks, 
While  they,  forsooth,  to  that  high  class  belong, 
Who  claim  a  patent  right  for  doing  wrong-. 
Thus  great  displays  of  genius  oft  portend 
A  wretched  life,  and  sad  untimely  end. 

Some  spend  their  days  in  one  perpetual  pet, 
It  seems  their  maxim,   "  man  was  made  to  fret," 
But  finding  fault  with  accidents  and  trifles, 
All  claims  to  reverence  and  affection  stifles. 

'Tis  to  be  wish'd  that  Misses  might  escape 
From  being  press'd  and  pinion'd  into  shape, 
Like  wax-work  models  moulded  so  precise, 
That  every  limb  seems  fasten'd  in  a  vice, 
While  every  feature  «f  their  made  vp  faces, 


Shews  affectation  mimicking  the  grace?, 
And  every  look  coerc'd  by  awkward  art, 
Puts  on  expressions  foreign  from  the  heart. 
"Tis  hop'd  indeed  that  simple  nature  may, 
In  simple  matters  sometimes  have  her  way, 
But  then  'tis  fear'd  this  never  will  take  place 
With  what  is  calPd  your  fashionable  race  ; 
And  parents,  will,  humanity  is  such, 
Govern  too  little,  or  restrain  too  much. 
Fools  will  be  simpletons,  when  all  is  said,. 
And  brains  be  lacking  in  an  empty  head, 
Your  fashioB-mongers  therefore  will  go  on, 
To  torture  tippies,  destin'd  for  the  ton, 
Inflict  more  pain  than  savages  would  bribe, 
To  make  them  leaders  of  an  Indian  tribe. (36) 

NAUC1SSA. 

In  your  capacity  of  Ladies'  Friend, 
Pray  what  amusements  would  you  recommend, 
And  with  official  dignity  declare, 
The  fittest  pastimes  for  the  youthful  fair  ? 


Ill 

MENTOR. 

In  all  diversions  carefully  unite 
Pleasure  with  profit,  learning  with  delight, 
And  when  the  mind  is  suffer'd  to  unbend, 
Still  let  instruction  with  amusement  blend. 
The  ingenious  teacher,  doubtless  may  devise 
Some  pleasing  labour,  useful  exercise, 
In  which  th'  essential  requisites  are  join'd, 
Which  brace  the  body  and  improve  the  mind. (37) 

Dancing,  perhaps,  with  proper  regulations, 
May  find  a  place  among  your  recreations, 
Though  genteel  people  doubtless  may  be  found, 
Who  ne'er  were  taught  to  tread  the  mazy  round, 
A  ball-room  seems  the  fittest  of  all  places, 
For  exhibitions  of  the  loves  and  graces — 
The  vestibule  which  leads  to  Hymen's  fane, 
Where  blameless  beauty's  fascinating  train, 
Those  ties  may  twine,  which  bind  our  hearts  &,  hands 
In  holy  wedlock's  consecrated  bands. 
In  dancing  too,  perhaps  with  Fancy's  aid, 
I've  ever  seen  much  character  display 'd  ; 


112 

Each  child  of  mirth,  who  trips  fantastic  rounds, 
In  due  accordance  with  harmonic  sounds, 
To  me  appears  to  give  aa  exhibition, 
By  which  the  temper,  views,  and  disposition, 
.And  cast   of  mind  are  more  precisely  shewn, 
Than  by  the  rules,  Lavater  has  made  known, 
Thus  Homer's  beauty  look'd  indeed  the  queen, 
But  by  her  movements  was  the  goddess  seen, 

Dancing,  'tis  said,  may  lead  tp  dissipation, 
The  bosom  fire  with  dangerous  emulation, 
Passions  excite,  like  those  which  were  displayed, 
By  rival  goddesses  in  Ida's  shade — 
That  such  preposterous,  profitless  parading-. 
Tends  to  connexions  dangerous,  and  degrading — 
That  ladies  oft,  their  graces  to  display, 
3 lave  rigadoon'd  their  hands  and  hearts  away 
To  men  of  minuets,  congees,  jigs  and  reels, 
Whose  mind's  head-quarters  seem  to  be  their  heels 
That  witching  waltzes,  with  a  wanton  whirl, 
The  prudence  prostrate  of  a  giddy  girl, 
And  give  to  passion  such  resistless  force 


113 

That  honour's  but  a  feather  in  its  course — 

That  scarce  the  sword,  which  guarded  Eden's  wall, 

Such  freedoms  granted,  could  prevent  her  fall : 

True  every  talent,  grace,  accomplishment, 

May  be  perverted  to  a  base  intent, 

Wit,  wealth  and  beauty  lead  to  many  a  snare, 

Yet  who  would  not  be  witty,  wealthy,  fair  ?(38) 

Though  dancing  i«  by  some  esteem'd  a  crime, 
In  every  nation,  and  in  every  clime, 
It  has  been  practis'd  since  the  world  began, 

And  has  the  sanction  of  the  wisest  man. 

/ 

But  vanity  oft  prematurely  calls, 
Her  titman-votaries  to  your  baby-balls, 
Where  tiny  belles,  and  Lilliputiaa  beaux, 
Like  wooden  images  at  puppet  shows, 
Strut  round  the  hall  with  counterfeit  gentility. 
And  port  sublime  as  Brobdignag  nobility  : 
Little  the  pigmies,  or  their  parents  think, 
While  sporting  thus  on  dissipation's  brink, 

That  hot  bed  flowers  of  premature  display, 
10  * 


114 

Are  always  sickly,  always  soon  decay  .;  « 

That  such  untimety  junketing,  in  truth 
Will  prove  a  canker  in  the  hud  of  youth, 
And  sad  experience  shew,  in  riper  years, 
Seeds  sown  in  revelry  are  reap'd  in  tears. (39) 

Cards  we  allow  are  not  without  their  uses, 
Though  liable  to  infinite  abuses, 
In  gamblers'  hands  are  plagues  of  worse  description 
Than  those  which  curs'd  the  obstinate  Egyptian. 
The  tempting  toys,  the  tiny  thieves  of  time, 
Merit  queen  Margaret's  menaces  sublime, (40) 
In  every  pack  I  see,  or  seem  to  see 
A  mickle  magazine  of  misery — 
A  poison'd  fountain,  whence  incessant  fiotr 

; 

The  streams  of  want,  of  wickedness  and  wo: 
Of  all  the  arts,  by  pleasure's  imps  designed, 
T'  amuse  an  indolent  and  vacant  mind, 
None  vie  with  cards  in  ruinous  control, 
Fatal  alike  to  body  and  to  soul. 
At  one  "  fell  swoop,"  they  oft  annihilate 
Time,  talents,  reputation,  health,  estate  ; 
I 


115 

Wives,  children,  friends — all  that  in  life  is  prlz'd. 
And  life  itself  to  cards  are  sacrific'd  ; 
Although  their  votaries  suffer  pain  severe, 
Stretched  on  the  rack  of  hope,  suspense,  and  fear, 
Round  hazard's  shrine,  how  eagerly  they  press, 
To  woo  misfortune,  and  to  court  distress  ! 
Conscious,  amid  the  dreadful  risks  they  run, 
They  must  undo,  or  they  must  be  undone, 
Each  wears  the  visage  of  a  sans  culotte, 
Holding  a  dagger  to  his  neighbour's  throat ! 
Each  breast  becomes  the  seat  of  passions  dire, 
Like  those,  which  doom  their  victims  to  the  fire, 
When  savages  infernal  offerings  make, 
Of  captives  writhing  round  a  burning  stake. 

NARCISSA. 

But  cards  may  serve  some  purpose  to  amuse, 
When  not  devoted  to  the  gambler's  views, 
And  one  must  learn  to  shuffle,  cut  and  deal, 
Or  be  accounted  monstrous  ungenteel. 


116 

MENTOR. 

But  here  again  as  murderers  of  time, 
The  culprits  stand  pre-eminent  in  crime. 
Whoso,  by  satan's  counsel  and  assistance, 
Robs  me  of  time,  deprives  me  of  existence, 
("Pis  plain  as  proof  from  holy  writ  to  me,) 
And  is  a  murderer  in  the  first  degree. 
Cards  then  as  truly  act  the  felon's  part, 
As  if  they  pierc'd  their  victims  through  the  heart, 
And  each  malicious  maculated  elf 
Has  kiWd  off"  more  than  Buonaparte  himself. 

Scarce  less  malignity  the  imps  disclose, 
As  female  beauty's  most  inveterate  foes, 
Nature  in  vain,  may  lavish  gifts  and  graces3 
To  finest  figures  add  the  fairest  faces, 
If  gambling  vigils  are  allow'd  to  blight, 
And  sink  the  seraph  to  the  fiend  and  fright. 

'Tis  said  indeed  among  Columbian  fair, 
A  lady-gambler  is  extremely  rare, 
Yet  our  prescription  may  perhaps  insure 


117 
/ 

Ag aiast  a  malady  so  hard  to  cure. 

Then  lest  our  dashing  belles  seould  ape  the  stjle 

Of  Fashion's  devotees  in  Britain's  isle, 

We  now  proceed  to  publish  our  decree, 

Binding  on  all  of  high  or  low  degree  ; 

Cards  from  henceforth,  in  due  abhorrence  held 

From  genteel  circles  are  hereby  expell'd  ; 

But  then  their  use  is  graciously  allow'd 

To  rich  or  poor,  who  form  the  vulgar  crowd, 

Whose  want  of  taste  and  emptiness  of  mind, 

Forbid  them  pastimes  of  a  nobler  kind — 

Thieves,  tavern-haunters,  bullies,  prostitutes, 

(To  keep  such  gentry  out  of  worse  pursuits) 

The  juggling-   shownian,  and  the  idle  rover, 

The  swaggering  tar  that's  more  than  half-seas  overy 

In  taking  dissipation's  last  degrees, 

May  play  at  cut-throat,  when  and  where  they  please: 

Decay'd  coquettes,  old  rakes  confm'd  with  gout, 

Who  can't  well  bear  the  load  of  life  without, 

Are  granted  cards,  or  some  such  kind  of  fooling, 

To  cheat  the  time  with,  while  their  gruel's,  cooling, 


118 

NARCISSA. 

'Tis  hop'd,  dread  sir,  that  your  reforming  rage, 
May  be  induc'd  to  tolerate  the  stage, 
And  that  your  pupils,  having  learn'd  to  darn  well. 
May  sometimes  grace  the  tragedy  of  Barnwell. 
You  would  not  hide  the  intellectual  rays, 
Which  emanate  from  some  of  Shakespeare's  plays, 
Nor  place  a  rough,  exterminating  hand 
On  those  of  Addison  and  Cumberland, 
And  other  play-wrights,  some  of  whom  I'm  sure 
In  style  sublimely,  elegant  and  pure, 
Inculcate  lessons  of  a  moral  kind, 
T'  instruct,  amuse  and  elevate  the  mind. 
If  so,  your  zeal,  so  over  orthodox, 
Might  rank  you  with  the  worshipful  John  Kuox, 
Who  thought  a  picture  wickeder  by  half, 
Than  Achan's  thing  accurs'd,  or  Aaron's  calf. 

MENTOR. 

Of  all  amusements,  in  an  age  like  ours, 
None  boast  of  stronger  fascinating  powers, 
Or  have  more  influence  on  the  public  mind, 


119 

Than  those  which  hold  the  mirror  to  mankind— 
Give  Panoramic  views  of  human  nature, 
As  drawn  by  some  expert  delineator, 
But  oft  the  hair-brain'd  histrionic  muse, 
Gives  vice  those  gaudy  aad  alluring  hues, 
Whose  splendor  dazzles  only  to  betray, 
And  lead  admiring  innocence  astray — 
Atrocious  ends  by  more  atrocious  means, 
Exhibited  in  bold  voluptuous  scenes, 
Destroy  the  moral  sense,  the  soul  embrute, 
And  form  full  many  a  mental  prostitute, 
Where  honour's  barriers  may  as  yet  prevail, 
The  fair  to  guard  within  decorum's  pale. 
When  pimps  of  passion  make  it  all  their  aim, 
To  stimulate  desire  and  stifle  shame, 
Their  pupils  fall,  for  what  is  there  to  hinder, 
Since  any  spark  can  fire  a  bit  of  tinder  ? 
Temptation  adequate  to  such  a  case, 
Is  never  wanting  to  complete  disgrace, 
And  many  a  wretch,  in  wickedness  that  gro  vels, 
Destruction  drew  from  theatres  and  novels, 
The  theatre,  however,  may  be  made 


120 

A  school  of  morals,  virtue's  fairest  aid, 
And  should  that  happen  we  will  not  refuse 
Our  acclamations  to  the  sceoic  muse. 

NARCISSA. 

Novels,  no  doubt,  to  meet  your  worship's  aims, 
En  masse  must  be  devoted  to  the  flames. 

MENTOR. 

In  spite  of  all  that  moralists  have  said, 
Novels  have  always,  always  will  be  read, 
And  always  may,  with  my  assenting  voice, 
At  proper  times,  and  with  a  proper  choice, 
Tales,  fables,  jest-books,  anecdotes,  romances, 
With  Milton's  Comus,  Shakespeare's  fairj'-fancies, 
And  apologues,  where  truth  is  veil'd  in  fiction 
May  be  permitted  under  due  restriction  j 
But  these,  and  other  writings  of  the  kind, 
Are  merely  tarts  and  sweet-meats  of  the  mind, 
Requiring  caution,  lest  in  time  they  should 
Be  substitutes  for  more  substantial  food, 
And  all  that  is  not  vicious,  vain,  or  light 


121 

Should  pall  upon  the  mental  appetite — 

The  odd  adventures,  strange,  romantic  scenes. 

Miraculous  ends,  by  more  miraculous  means, 

Bustle  and  bluster,  incident,  intrigue, 

Man's  noblest  attributes,  join'd  in  a  league 

With  all  that's  vengeful,  yenomousand  vile, 

Sketch'd  in  gaudy,  meretricious  style, 

Of  sounding  periphrases,  sans  pretence, 

To  perspicuity  or  common  sense, 

Which  modern  novels  commonly  embrace, 

Where  nought  correct  or  natural  has  a  place, 

Have  given  the  reading  world  a  worthless  waste, 

To  taint  its  morals,  and  corrupt  its  taste. 

Some  novel-writers  take  especial  pride, 
In  painting  human  nature's  darkest  side  ; 
They  gloss  with  colours,  delicate,  and  nice. 
The  horrid  features  of  the  monster,  vice, 
And  give  the  hag  such  artificial  charms, 
As  serve  to  lure  th'  unwary  to  her  arms— 
They  place  a  halo  round  the  devil's  head, 

And  hide  the  cloven  foot  wiiwh  mortals  dreacf, 
11 


122 

Shed  o'er  the  fiend  a  counterfeited  grace, 

Then  lead  their  readers  to  his  dire  embrace. 

This  class  of  writers  with  pernicious  aim, 

Give  crime  the  sanction  of  some  specious  name, 

The  duellist  they  place  in  honour's  van, 

The  vile  seducer  is  a  gallant  man, 

A  man  of  honour  to*,  beyond  compare, 

Save  little  falsehoods  to  deceive  the  fair  ; 

Which,  say  these  writers,  few  consider  blots 

On  young  men's  characters,  but  rather  spots, 

Somewhat  like  those,which  fashien  sometimes  places 

By  way  of  ornament  on  pretty  faces — 

That,  petty  treacheries,  and  puny.Hes, 

Your  men  of  gallantry  and  fashion  prize, 

As  merely  things  of  course,  which  are 

To  be  employ'd  in  every  love  affair  ; 

Scarce  worthy  reprehension,  though  they  doom 

Confiding  beauty  to  an  early  tomb, 

And  stigmatize,  with  undeserv'd  disgrace, 

The  innocent  survivors  of  her  race  ! 

Such  is  the  burthen  of  full  many  a  tale, 

Form'd  on  your  modern  fashionable  scale, 


Couch'd  in  a  style  that  either  struts  or  grovels, 

Thro*  more  than  nine  tenths  of  our  common  novels. 

Such  things,  the  scandal  of  the  British  press, 

Our  yankey  chapmen  always  buy  by  guess, 

Because  forsooth,  your  London  literature 

Must  be  instructive,  elegant,  and  pure — 

Because,  Americans,  weVe  all  agreed  in, 

Have  never  written  what  was  worth  a  reading  i 

So  very  villanous  such  writings  are, 

That  one  is  almost  tempted  to  declare, 

Had  certain  novels,  common  nowadays, 

SharM  with  their  authors  in  a  common  blaze. 

Ere  'twas  presum'd  their  trash  to  circulate, 

Humanity  would  scarce  lament  their  fate, 

And  justice  would  pronounce  their  doom  design'd 

To  be  an  act  of  mercy  to  mankind. 

But  there  are  novels  of  another  class 

Which  form  exceptions  to  the  general  mass, 

By  whose  perusal  we  at  once  may  sec, 

Both  what  man  is,  and  what  he  ought  to  be, 

Where  pleasing  means  pursue  an  upright  end, 

Which  may  our  manners,  and  our  morals  mend. 


Penmen  inspir'd  hare  oftentimes  seen  fit 
T»o  give  us  novels  e'en  in  holy  writ ; 
The  apologue  of  Job  appears  designM 
To  be  a  novel  of  the  sacred  kind, 
And  in  th'  Evangelists  are  novels  found, 
Which  in  the  shape  of  parables  abound.(41) 

NARCISSA. 

By  shrewd  observers,  I  have  heard  it  said, 
Learning  should  never  pose  a  woman's  head, 
(Which  if 'tis  handsome,  is  not  much  the  worse, 
For  being  empty  as  a  poet's  purse,) 
Whose  wealth  and  beauty  sanction  higher  aims., 
Than  those  of  village-school  instructing  dames- 
Nature,  they  say,  the  sterner  sex  desiga'd, 
Th'  exclusive  empire  over  realms  of  mind, 
And  ladies  by  their  literary  flights, 
Invade  your  province,  and  usurp  your  rights, 
Knowledge,  to  us,  is  fruit  which  is  forbidden, 
As  absolutely  as  it  was  in  Eden  ; 
Of  course  all  books  are  useless  to  the  fair, 
Saving  the  bible  and  the  book  of  prayer — 


125 

That  many  a  fair  experiment  has  shewn, 
That  we  had  best  let  literature  alone — 
That    ladies  listed  in  the  Muses'  train, 
Have  ever  prov'd  insufferably  vain, 
And  are  in  fact  but  little  better  than 
The  silly  thing  you  style  a  lady's  man — 
That  none  should  dare  fleet  Pegasus  to  ride, 
But  those  who  manfully  can  set  astride, 
And  drive  him  with  the  majesty  and  sleight, 
Of  Phoebus  managing  his  steeds  of  light. 

i 

Books  too,  they  tell  us  cause  an  aivkward  air, 
And  give  the  countenance  a  cast  of  care, 
Which  frightens  suitors,  most  of  whom  we  find, 
Dread  every  symptom  of  superior  mind, 
A  gallant  of  the  fashionable  cut, 
Fears  to  become  of  ridicule  the  butt, 
If  he  should  wed  a  literary  wife, 
More  than  his  match  in  intellectual  strife, 
And  trembles  lest,  perchance,  her  mental  store., 
By  contrast  shew  his  emptiness  the  more — 

Tlaat  learning  proves  an  injury  beside, 
11  * 


1S8 

By  giving  rise  to  that  pedantic  pride, 
Which  is  so  oft  disgustingly  display'd 
In  pompous  phrases  quoted  for  parade, 
Words,  which  although  sonorous  and  sublime, 
Yet  us'd  without  regard  to  place  or  lime, 
To  men  of  science  and  of  sense  appear, 
Like  jewels  pendant  from  an  JEthiop's  ear. 

They  say  a  miss  had  better  learn  the  arts 
Of  making  puddings,  pickles,  pies  and  tarts, 
Than  store  her  intellects  with  useless  knowledge, 
The  musty  lore  and  lumber  of  a  college — 
In  short  a  female's  learning  is  complete, 
When  she  can  guess  and  spell  a  cook's  receipt. 

MENTOR. 

The  best  of  gifts,  we  know  may  be  abus'd, 
The  light  of  heaven  is  frequently  misus'd, 
And  sight  the  noblest  of  our  senses  may, 
Through  optical  illusions  lead  astray  ; 
Eyes  are  too  useful,  ne'ertheless,  no  doubt, 
For  sound  philosophy  to  pluck  them  out, 


-127 

And  'twould  bs  bold  impiety  to  say — 

Blot  out  the  sun,  exterminate  the  day, 

And  every  "  lesser  light"  that  ever  glow'd, 

To  light  the  thief  or  robber  on  his  road. 

And  that  harsh  doctrine  is  as  far  from  right, 

Which  robs  one  half  our  race  of  mental  light, 

For  fear  some  partially  pernicious  thing, 

From  universal  benefit  should  spring. 

Sure  then  your  sex  may  spend  their  leisure  hours, 

In  cultivating  intellectual  flowers, 

Which  in  full  of  bloom  and  fragrance  will  remain, 

When  youth  is  fled  and  beauty  in  its  wane. 

A  woman  may  in  literature  delight, 
And  not  become  a  slattern  or  a  fright, 
Few  in  this  land  of  liberty  are  found, 
Condemn'd  to  toil  in  such  unceasing  round, 
But  books  may  save  from  suffering  more  or  Iess4 
"  The  pains  and  penalties  of  idleness," 
Learning,  tis  said,  in  woman  is  allied 
With  arrant  airs  of  pedantry  and  pride, 
But  let  it  be  ai  common  as  the  air, 


128 

Let  all  the  sex  its  privileges  share, 

IB  other  words  let  all  have  education! 

Adapted  to  their  geniuses  and  stations, 

And  sure  BO  individual  will  be  proud, 

Of  what  she  holds  joint  tenant  with  the  crowd. 

One  might  possess  of  cash  as  great  a  store, 

As  care-worn  miser  ever  counted  o'er, 

And  not  be  telling  it  one  half  his  time, 

Nor  treat  his  friends  forever  with  its  chime ; 

And  past  a  doubt  a  well-read  lady  may 

Not  keep  her  learning  merely  for  display, 

Nor  urg'd  by  female  vanity,  disclose 

To  every  body  every  thing  she  knows  ; 

Nay,  if  she's  gifted  with  a  grain  of  sense, 

She'll  shew  no  learning  where  it  gives  offence, 

Her  mental  store  will  sedulously  hide, 

When  e'er  its  exhibition  looks  like  pride — 

Will  not  talk  latin  to  a  petit  maitre, 

Unless  she  means  the  simpleton  should  hate  her, 

But  if  the  dread  of  her  superior  mind 

Should  frighten  suitors  of  the  coxcofl*b-kind, 

That  happy  circumstance  may  save  the  trouble 


•129 

Of  being  tantaliz'd  by  many  a  bubble, 
And  useful  prove,  ia  dealing  with  the  creatures? 
As  nets  of  gauze  for  keeping  off  muske  toes. 

Like  seeks  its  likeness,  block-heads  marry  fools, 
(For  that  I  take  it's  one  of  .Hymen'*  rules.) 
Let  silly  fops  their  gallantry  address 
To  nymphs,  (if  possible)  who  know  still  lew, 
For  if  a  flirt  should  wed  a  lady's   man, 
They  may  be  happy  as  such  creatures  can, 
But  sure  no  pair  can  happiness  expect 
Where  there's  no  parity  of  intellect. 

If  woman's  power  of  mind  should  be  applied 
To  useful  subjects,  and  to  dignified, 
Not  thrown  away  on  objects  light  and  vain, 
The  foolish  whims  of  fashion's  giddy  train, 
The  chances  for  improvement  must  be  greater 
In  arts  which  meliorate  our  common  nature. 
Give  woman  knowledge,  and  the  frivolous  race 
Of  fops  would  meet  with  merited  disgrace, 

woman  science,  mole-eyed  ignorance  then 


130 

Must  consort  with  the  savage  in  his  den, 

Pert  macaronies  find  their  race  is  run, 

And  plants  of  genius  thrive  in  beauty's  sun.(42) 

Books  give  a  social  intercourse  with  sages, 
Who  hare  adorn'd  all  nations  and  all  ages, 
Confer  the  power  without  a  sail  unfurl'd, 
To  pass  with  Cook  or  Anson  round  the  world, 
O'er  Afric'*  sands  to  wend  no  weary  way, 
View  the  wreck'd  ship,  nor  feel  the  ocean's  spray. 
Attend  the  poet's  most  adventurous  flight, 
Unwind  with  Newton  filaments  of  light  ; 
Aided  by  books  we  "  we  mount  where  science  guidefe 
To  measure  earth,  weigh  air,  and  state  the  tides, 
Survey  the  world,  behold  the  chain  of  love, 
Combining  all  below  with  a'll  above," 
And  trace  the  path,  by  saints  and  sages  trod, 
Which  kads  "  through  nature  up  to  nature's  God." 

Sure  that  decree  can  merit  no  regard, 
By  which  the  fairer  sex  would   be  deJbarr'd, 
Such  blameless  luxuries  of  literature. 


131 

Pleasures  so  elegant,  delights  so  pure. 
So  profitable  and  scarce  less  intense, 
Than  those  most  exquisite  of  common  sense — 
Pleasures  by  which  a  prelibation's  given, 
Of  unalloy'd  felicity  in  heaven. 

But  see  the  Sun  his  parting  lustre  sheds, 
And  night  her  mantle  o'er  the  landscape  spreads  ; 
Let  us  through  verdant  labyrinths  retrace 
The  paths  which  lead  to  this  delightful  place, 
Lest  our  companions  should  believe  us  strays, 
Lost  in  the  windings  of  the  woodland  maze. 


NOTES. 


KOTE  1.  PAGE  15. 

VOLXEY,  a  famous  French  writer,  thought  it 
very  practicable  te  form  a  theory  ol'windj*,  by  which 
atmospherical  currents  «ould  be  prognosticated 
by  philosophers,  with  as  much  precision,  as  the 
times  of  high  and  low  water,  by  Almanack-mak 
ers.  Dr.  Darwin  seems  likewise  to  Lave  embraced 
similar  ideas,  which  are  alluded  to  by  the  author 
of  the  "  Pursuits  of  Literature^'  who  says  that  he 

"  Could  give  with  Darwin,  te  the  hectic  kind, 

Receipts  in  verse  to  shift  the  north-east  wind," 
12 


134 

and  observe*  that  "  Dr.  Darwin,  'A",  appears  by  a 
long; and  pleasant  note,  in  his  "Loves  of  the 
Plants^'  thinks  it  very  feasible  to  manage  the  winds 
at  his  pleasure  by  a  little  philosophy/' 

NOTE  2.     Page  19. 

Ledyard  was  aa  American  by  birth  and  made 
himself  eminent  by  his  travels  in  wild  and  unhospi- 
tablc  countries.  Although  his  "  Eulogy  on  Wom 
an"  has  been  frequently  published,  perhaps,  it  ought 
not  to  be  omitted  in  a  work  devoted  principally  to 
the  service  cf  the  sex. 

"Ihave  always  remarked  that  women  in  all 
countries  are  civil,  obliging,  tender  and  humane  ; 
that  they  are  ever  inclined  to  be  gay  and  cheerful, 
timorous  and  modest ;  and  that  they  do  not  hesitate, 
like  men,  to  perform  a  generous  action.  Not 
haughty,  arrogant,  nor  supercilious,  they  are  all 
full  of  courtesy,  and  fond  of  society  ;  more  liable  in 
general  to  err  than  men,  but  generally  more  virtu 
ous,  and  performing  more  meritorious  actions.  To 
a  woman,  whether  civilized  or  savage,  I  never  ad- 


135 

eressed  myself  in  the  language  of  decorum  and 
friendship  without  receiving-  a  decent  and  friendly 
answer — with  men  it  has  been  otherwise. 

In  wandering  over  the  barren  plains  of  inhospi 
table  Denmark,  honest  Sweden,  and  frozen  Lap 
land,  and  rude  and  churlish  Finland,  unprincipled 
Russia,  and  the  wide  spreading-  regions  of  the  wan 
dering  Tartars — if  hungry,  dry,  cold,  wet  or  sick, 
the  women  have  been  universally  friendly  to  me  : 
and  this  virfue  so  vorthy  the  appellation  of  benev 
olence — these  actions  have  bso-n  performed  in  KW 
free  and  so  ki^.tia  manner,  (hat  if  I  was  dry  I  drank 
the  sweetest  draught,  and  if  hungry  I  eat  the  cc^u-, 
est  morsel  with  a  double  relish." 

% 

NOTE  3.     PAGE  19. 

It  would  transcend  the  limits  of  this  work,  t& 
mention  many  particular  instances  of  the  successful 
exertiens  of  French  women,  to  allay  the  ferocity  of 
the  savages,  who  were  the  principal  actors  in  the 
horrid  scenes  of  the  French  revolution.  They 
abound  in  every  history  of  thai  period,  and  were 


136 

most  honourably  conspicuous  in  the  civil  wars  of 
La  Vendee.  I  cannot,  however,  omit  one  instance 
which  proves  that  the  most  flinty  and  ferocious  bos 
oms  are  not  always  callous  to  the  appeals  of  hu 
manity,  when  urged  by  a  female  advocate. 

';  Among  the  small  number  of  prisoners  who 
tvere  paved  from  the  swords  of  the  assassins,  on  the 
bloody  second  «f  September  1792,  was  M.  Cazotte, 
a  man  of  seventy  four  years  of  ago,  formerly  Cora- 
mjsiioaer-Gereral  of  the  Marine,  but  who  had  for 
several  yeurs  "lived  is.  retirement  al  hU  vilbge  near 
Kpernay. 

4/1  This  old  cemleir.p.n  ha.l  been  arrested  a>t  Iris 
hc^se  in  the  country,  an:'  brought  to  the  prison  of 
the  Abbaye,  in  cec«equenco  of  letter?  written  by 
him  and  found  among  the  papers  of  a  M.  Pouteau, 
Secretary  to  M.  de  la  Porte  ;  from  which  it  appear 
ed  that  I*e  was  in  correspondence  with  the  emi 
grants  :  that  he  advUed  the  king  to  e-scajte  from 
Varib,  and  had  transmitted  a  plan  for  that  purpose  ; 
that  he  had  also  advised  the  dissolution  of  the  Na 
tional  Assembly  :  for  these,  and  other  parfs  oflm 


137 

conduct,  to  the  same  tendency,  he  was  detained  in 
the  Abbaye,  in  expectation  of  a  legal  trial 

"  But  on  the  second  of  September,  when  deter 
mined  murderers  made  a  mockery  of  the  forms  of 
law,  and  chosen  assassins  seized  the  sword  of  Jus 
tice  ;  when  the  prisoner  was  surrounded  at  his  trial 
by  pikes  smoking  from  recent  slaughter,  and  with 
in  hearing  of  the  screams  of  those  who  had  just 
been  dragged  from  the  bar  where  he  stood  :  on  that 
dreadful  day,  M.  Cazotte  was  brought  before  the 
horrid  tribunal  within  the  prison.  Several  prison 
ers  had  already  been  carried  there — none  had  sur 
vived  their  short  examination  above  two  minutes  ! 
A  sign  from  the  pretended  Judge,  or  an  equivocal 
word,  was  the  fatal  sentence,  and  the  blow  of  death 
followed  as  the  prisoner  was  led  from  the  bar. 

*'  When  M.  Cazotte  appeared — the  list  of  names 
were  examined  by  these  inquisitors,  no  mark  of  fav 
our  was  seen  at  his — the  signal  of  death  was  given, 
and  he  was  led  out  to  slaughter  !  But,  before  he  re 
ceived  the  stroke  of  death,  his  daughter,  a  beanti- 

ful  young  lady  of  seventeen,  sprung  upon  her  fath- 

12  * 


138 

*r"s  neck,  exclaiming  in  a  transport  of  terror  and 
filial  affection,  Mercy  !  mercy  !  O,  mercy  ! — my 
father  I  my  father  ! 

•'  The  grey  hairs  of  the  old  man,  the  affecting  ap 
pearance  and  exclamations  of  theyoung  lady, arrested 
(he  arms  of  the  assassins  and  melted  the  hearts  of 
the  people  !  The  cries  of  grage  !  grace  !  and  Vive 
la  Nation  were  heard.  The  old  gentleman  and  his 
daughter  were  conducted  in  safety  to  the  house  of 
a  friend,  amidst  the  applause  of  the  multitude  ! 
.  "  This  admirable  young  woman  had  never  sep 
arated  from  her  fathor,  overcoming  her  horror  for 
a  prison  crowded  with  men  ;  surmounting  her  ter 
ror,  her  delicacy,  and  every  consideration  which 
could  render  tfre  situation  repugnant  to  her  mind  ; 
filial  love,  and  a  strong  sense  of  duty,  enabled  her 
to  attend  him  during  his  confinement  in  the  Ablaye, 
and  to  administer  every  comfort  arid  consolation  is. 
tcr  power. 


Nt)TE4.     PAGE  19. 

The  defence  of  Saragossa,  a  city  in  Spain,  against 
the  French  invaders,  was  one  of  the  most  desper 
ate  recorded  history.  The  women  signalized  them- 

A 

selves  in  a  most  remarkable   manntr,   and  many  of 

them  were  killed  upon  the  ramparts,  while  exhib 
iting  glorious  proofs  of  active  valour,  and  daring* 
patriotism. 

NOTE  5.     PAGE  20. 

In  a  war  between  the  Romans  and  the  Sabines, 
the  wives  of  the  former,  who  were  of  Sabine  ori-< 
gin  and  had  been  carried  away  by  force  from  * 
public  festival,  intervened  between  the  combatants 
and  by  their  tears  and  entreaties  persuaded  the  tw© 
hostile  nations  to  unite  and  become  one  people. 

NOTE6v     PAGE  21. 

Coriolanus,  a  noble  Roman  having  been  banished 
by  his  countrymen,  was  bent  upon  revenge  and 
joining  with  Volsci,  who  were  enemies  of  the  Rom* 
ajis,  took  many  of  their  towns  and  encamped  within 


five  miles  of  the  city  of  Rome  itself.  The  people 
now  saw  their  errer,  and  a  deputation  being  sent  to 
treat  with  him,  he  received  them  with  haughtiness 
and  refused  to  give  them  any  hopes  of  a  reconcilia 
tion.  To  a  second  and  third  message  of  the  same 
kind  he  shewed  himself  inexorable.  At  length 
his  mother,  wife  and  children  came  out  to  plead 
*heir  country's  cause.  To  their  entreaties  he  at 
length  yielded.  Raising  his  venerable  parent  from 
the  ground,  he  exclaimed,  '^-You  have  saved  Rome, 
my  mother,  but  you  have  destroyed  your  son."  He 
returned  to  his  tent,  and  soon  after  took  measures 
for  a  retreat. 

NOTE  7.     PAGE  22. 

Bear  with  me  then,  if  lawful,  what  I  ask, 
Love  not  the  heav'nly  spirits,  and  how  their  love, 
Express  they — by  looks  only,  or  do  they  mix 
Irradiance,  virtual  or  immediate  truth  ? 

To  whom  the  angel,  with  a  smile  that  glowed 
Celestial  rosy  red,  love's  proper  hue, 
Aiwiver'd :  Let  it  suffice  thfce  that  tkm  know'«t 


HI 

U«  happy,  and  without  love  no  happiness. 
Whatever  pure  thou  in  the  body  enjoy'st, 
(And  pure  thou  wert  created)  we  enjoy 
In  eminence,  and  obstacle  find  none, 
Ol  membrane,  joint  or  limb,  exclusive  bars : 
Easier  than  air  with  air,  if  spirits  embrace, 
Total  they  mix,  union  of  pure  with  pure, 
Desiring;   no  restrained  conveyance  need, 
As  flesh  te  mix  with  flesh  or  soul  with  souli 

Paradise  Lost. 

NOTE  8.     PAGE  23. 

Helen,  a  beautiful  and  accomplished  woman,  was 
the  cause  of  a  war  betweenGreece  and  Troy  or  Ilion, 
which  terminated  in  the  destruction  of  the  latter. 
Thais,  a  courtezan,  during  a  debauch,  instigated 
Alexander  the.  Great  to  set* fire  to  Persepolis,  a  city 
in  Persia, 

NOTE  9.     PAGE  23. 

In  the  midst  of  the  famous  battle  of  Actium?  be 
tween  Antony  and  Octavius,  Cleopatra,  queeo  of 


142 

Egypt,  mistress  to  Antony  fled,  and  her  gallant  had 
the  weakness  to  follow  her.  He  thus  overwhelm 
ed  his  character  with  perpetual  ignominy,  and  lost 
his  chance  for  the  Empire  of  the  world,  which  de 
pended  on  the  issue  of  the  combat. 

NOTE  10.    PAGE  26. 

For  like  the  angel*,  lapsed  from  native  skies, 
Woman  oncefaVn  again  can  never  rise, 
Her  only  solace  must  be  found  in  heaven^ 
On  earth  her  fault  -will  never  be  forgiven. 

"But,  it  may  be  asked,  will  not  penitence  recsind 

the  severe  interdict  which  bars  the  doors  of  socie* 

\ 

ty  against  female  frailty  ?  Most  unquestionably, 
«o  far  as  friendship  or  kindred  are  concerned.  A 
rery  able  instructress, J  of  our  sex  has  determined, 
that  true  penitence  will  not  wish  to  exceed  those 
bounds,  or  to  mix  in  the  crowded  haunts  of  public 
life.  Nor  let  a  decision  be  censured  for  severity, 
which  is  really  the  dictate  of  mercy,  sanctioned  by 

$See  Mrs.  More1*  Essays,  and  Strictures  on  Edncatioi}, 


143 

a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  and  pro. 
ceeding  from  lively  sympathy  for  these  who,  though 
uo  longer  offending  continue  to  be  unfortunate. 
When  the  soul  is  really  awakened  to  a  sense  of  iti... 
backsliding?,  when  it  feels  the  reproofs  of  con 
science  and  the  shame  of  contrition,  it  will  natur 
ally  shrink  from  returning  to  those  scenes  which  it 
knows  are  dangerous  to  reputation  and  peace.  Con 
vinced  of  her  own  weakness,  afraid  to  f rust  her 
scarcely  confirmed  resolutions,  and  concluding  by 
the  publicity  of  her  story,  that  all  who  see  her  will 
look  upon  her  with  contempt,  reproach  or  pity, 
the  true  Magdalene  wishes  alike  to  avoid  the  haz 
ard  of  falling  into  new  transgressions  and  the  con 
tumely  attending  the  past.  She  is  deafer  than  aa 
adder  to  the  syren  strains  of  adulation  f  she  knows 
too  well  the  "  ills  that  spring  from  beauty  ;"  splen 
dor  has  lost  its  attractions  ;  she  cannot  derive 
amusements  from  crowds,  because  she  can  no  lon 
ger  mingle  in  them  without  feeling  a  sense  of  de 
gradation.  She  considers  too,  that  if  she  should 
again  aspire  to  fashionable  celebrity,  hers  would 


M4 

»e  an  uphill  task  ;  every  eye  would  be  fixed  upoa 
her  conduct ;  every  tongue  inclined  to  question  the 
sincerity  of  her  profession;  what  would  be  thought 
mere  vivacity  in  unsuspected  innocence,  wauld  in 
her  be  levity  ;  and  marked  reserve  would  be  con 
strued  into  a  prudish  vizard  throwa  over  the  worst 
designs.  Her  whispers  would  be  supposed  to  con 
vey  assignations,  her  reproofs  would  be  called  the 
splenetic  dictates  of  jealousy.  Besides,  can  she  who 
has  so  weighty  a  task  to  perfom  aflbrd  to  trifle  away 
the  important  hours  ?  Turn  thee,back*liding  daugh 
ter,  turn  to  the  cool  sequestered  vale  of  life,  and 
thy  troubled  day  may  yet  have  a  happy  close.  Ration 
al  amasement,renovated  esteem,friend?hip,  content- 
meat,  tranquillity,  and  religious  hope,  may  still  be 
all  thine  own. 

u  It  is  not,  therefore,  the  harsh  decree  of  outm- 
geons  virtue,  but  the  mild  counsels  of  kindness  and 
sympathy,  that  determines  the  preservation  of  these 
distinctions  which  custom  has  long  preserved  be 
tween  unsuspected  and  forfeited  characters.  And 
if  those  in  whose  favour  these  barriers  might 


14o 

be  broken  down  with  safety,  are  too  ^vell  con- 
rinced  of  their  expedience  to  require  their  abo 
lition,  let  us  determine  to  defend  the  privileges  of  in 
nocence  from  the  pertinacious  attacks  of  impudence 
end  hardened  depravity.  The  increasing  facility 
of  intercourse  between  the  most  profligate  and  the 
most  irreproachable  women,  which  is  a  marked  and 
peculiar  feature  of  these  times,  threatens  more  than 
our  manners.  The  transition  is  very  easy,  and 
generally  very  rapid  from  unrestrained  freedom  of 
behaviour  to  unrestrained  freedom  of  conduct  ; 
and  especially  when  the  mind  has  not  been  deep 
ly  imbued  with  religious  truths,  in  which  case 
the  opinion  of  the  world  forms  one  of  the  strongest 
bulwarks  of  virtue.  Banishment  from  parties  of 
high  ton,  and  estrangement  from  amusements, 
which  every  one  talks  of  have  often  intimidated  the 
wavering  fair  one,  and  imposed  a  guarded  decorum 
of  manner  on  the  determined  wanton.  Let  us  not 
then,  when  the  cardinal  virtue  of  our  sex  is  assault 
edby  unusual  perils,  resign  one  of  its  most  materia.l 

•utworks."     Mrs.  Wests  Letters  to  a  Young  Lady. 
13 


146 

NOTE  11.     PAGE  30. 

••"  Like  Pope's  aerial  fenciblei. 

"  Know  then,  unnumbered  spirits  round  thce  fly, 
The  light  militia  of  the  lower  sky  ; 
These,  though  unseen  are  ever  on  the  wing, 
Hang  o'er  the  box,  and  hover  round  the  ring." 

Rape  of  the  Lock. 

NOTE  12.     PAGE  33. 

Trophonius  was  an  eminent  Soothsayer,  who  is 
said  to  have  dwelt  in  a  cave,  into  which  if  any  per 
son  entered,  they  would  never  afterwards  feel  an 
inclination  to  laugh. 

NOTE  13.     PAGE  35. 

I'd  sooner  wed  a  legendary  ghost. 

Narcissa  here  alludes  to  a  tale  of  terror,  told  in 

rhyme,  by  one  of  the  late  British  bards,  respecting 

a  certain  prince,  who  at  a  certain  time  wedded  a 

beautiful  lady.     By  an  awkward  accident  however, 

the  wedding  ring  was  placed  on  the  finger  of  a  statue 

of  a  dead  goddess,  whose  ghost,  of  course,  had  a  le- 


147 

gitimate  claim  upon  the  prince,  and  on  the  night  of 
the  wedding  day,  took  the  liberty  to  obtrude  itself 
between  the  bride  and  bri3egroom,to  the  unspeaka 
ble  terror  aall  discomfiture  of  terrestrial  part  of 
the  concern.  This  hobgoblin  story  is  done  into 
poetry,  I  believe,  by  Mr.  Lewis,  author  of  the 
"  Monk,"  a  novel,  which  is  infinitely  terrific,  and 
(to  some  folks  )  not  less  agreeable. 

NOTE  14.     PAGE  37. 

J(fen  I  have  /;norcn  of  knozr;ledge  most  profound. 
For  polished  manners  scarcely  less  renown*  d. 
It  mi^hf  have  tho  appearance  of  flattery  to  name 
iiv: -'  :  ~J'     -cals  to  whom   the   atove  lines  would 
be  r>"  .  ,  We  shall  therefore  mention  SirWu- 

LIA:.I  T^rrEs,  whoso  literary  acquisition5!  and  dignity 
,  a'-acter,   are   thws  alluded  to  by  the  author  of 
The  Pursuit,  of  Literature. 

"  He  top,  whom  Indies  and  the  Ganges  mo«rn, 

The  glory  of  their  banks  from  Isis  torn, 

la  learning's  strength  is  fled,  in  Judgment's  prime, 


148 

In  science  temperate,  various,  and  sublime* 
To  him  familiar  every  legal  doom. 
The  courts  of  Athens,  or  the  halls  of  Rome, 
Or  Hindoo  vidas  taught ;  for  him  the  Muse 
Distill'd  from  every  flow'r  Hyblaaan  dews  ; 
Firm,  when  exalted  ;  in  demeanour  grave, 
Merc,}'  and  truth  were  his,  he  lov'd  to  save." 

That  Sir  WILLIAM  JOVES  was  little  less  a  favour- 

« 

ite  of  the  Graces  than  the  Muses  appears  from  hi«- 
biography  by  Lord  Teignmoiath  ;  and,  in  Mrs.  Pioz- 
zi-s  Advice  to  a  New  Married  Jl/cm,  i*  the  following 
passage  which  proves  that  a  man  or  woman  of  let 
ter?,  in  Great  Britain,  is  treated  with  that  atten 
tion  and  deference  which  are  not  always  accord 
ed  to  wealth  or  nobility,  and  that  Sir  WILLIAM  JONES 
held  a  high  station  in  the  circles  of  fashion  as  well 
as  in  those  of  literature. 

"  The  age  we  live  in  pays,  I  think.peculiar  atten 
tion  to  the  higher  distinctions  of  wit,  knowledge, 
and  virtue.  The  giddy  flirt  of  quality  frets  at  the 
vc=pcct  she  ser,s  paid  to  Lady  Edgecumbc,  aad  the 


149 

gay  dunce  sits  pining  for  a  partner,  while  Jones  tht 
Orientalist  leads  up  the  ball''' 

NOTE  16.     PAGE  41. 

And  he  changed  his  behaviour  before  them,  ami 
feigned  himself  mad  in  their  hands. 

I.  Sawuel  21.  xiii. 

NOTE  17.     PAGE  52. 

The  Vestales  Firgines,  vestal  virgins,  of  Rome, 
were  women,  devoted  to  the  service  of  the  goddess 
Vesta.  They  made  a  vow  of  perpetual  chastity, 
and  if  they  were  guilty  of  its  violation  were  buried 
alive. 

NOTE  18.     PAGE  58. 

The  vagaries  of  Miss  Wolstonecroft  are,  thus  ani 
madverted  upon  by  a  lady  whose  writings  may  be 
exhibited  among  other  irrefragable  proof,  that  na 
ture  has  not  disqualified  the  female  sex  from  be 
coming  eminently  useful  to  the  community,  in  the 

arduous  and  honourable  pursuits  of  literature* 
13  * 


150 

"  Au  eecentric  writer,  who  thought  audacity  a 
proof  of  genius,  and  mistook  insubordination  for  in 
dependence  and  greatness  of  soul,  seemed  to  sup 
pose  that  the  professions  of  a  lawyer,  a  physician, 
and  a  merchant  were  no  ways  incompatible  with 
women.  Little  ingenuity  is  necessary  to  disprove 
a  theory,  which  puzzled  for  an  hour,  an,d  sunk  into 
oblivion,  overwhelmed  by  the  weight  of  its  own 
absurdity,  till  it  was  fished  up  again  by  some  sec 
ond-hand  dealers  in  paradox  and  innovation.  That 
we  can  neither  gain  happiness  or  advantage,  from 
renouncing  the  habits,  which  nature  communicated 
and  custom  has  ratified,  is  evident,  by  considering 
the  qualities  for  which  we  have  been  most  valued, 
and  how  far  they  would  amalgamate  with  an  altera 
tion  in  our  relative  situation.  Could  modesty  en 
dure  the  stare  of  public  attention  ;  could  meekness 
preserve  her  olive  wand  unbroken  amid  the  noisy 
contention  of  the  bar  ;  coutd  delicacy  escape  unin 
jured  throngh  ihe  initiatory  studies  of  medicine  ; 
could  cautious  discretion  venture  vpon  those  haz 
ardous  experiments,  which  private  as  well  as  pub- 


151 

He  utility  often  require  ;  could  melting  compassion 
be  the  proper  agent  of  impartial  justice  ;  or  could 
gentleness  dictate  those  serere  but  wholesome  res 
traints,  which  often  preserve  a  nation  from  ruin  ? 
Though  I  am  inclined1  to  think  highly  of  my  own 
sex,  I  confess  that  I  can  see  nothing  in  this  scheme 
of  an  Amazonian  Republic,  which  is  not  in  the  high 
est  degree  ridiculous  and  laughable.  My  convictjion 
that  we  should  make  wretched  generals,  patriots) 
politicians,  legislators  and  advocates,  proceeds 
from  my  having  never  yet  seen  a  private  family 
well  conducted  that  has  been  subjected  to  female 
usurpation.  Notwithstanding  any  degree  of  science 
or  talent  which  may  have  illuminated  the  fair  vice 
gerent,  the  awkward  situation  of  the  good  man  in 
the  corner  has  always  excited  risibility,  and  awak 
ened  such  prying  scrutiny  into  interior  arrange 
ments,  as  has  never  failed  to  discover  "  something 
rotten  in  the  state  of  Denmark."  It  is  not  only  the 
temperament  of  our  virtues,  which  indicate  the 
necessity  of  our  being  shielded  from  the  broad 
glare  of  observation;  there  is,  generally  speaking, 


152 

(and  Providence  acts  by  general  rules,  Loth  in  the 
natural  and  moral  world)  too  much  impetuosity  of 
feeling,  quickness  of  determination,  and  locali 
ty  of  observation  in  women,  to  enable  us  to  dis 
charge  public  trusts,  or  extensive  duties  with  pro 
priety.  The  warmth  of  our  hearts  overpowers  the 
ductility  of  cur  judgments  ;  and  in  our  extreme  de- 
fire  to  act  very  right,  we  want  forbearance  and  ac 
commodation,  which  makes  our  best  designs  often 
terminate  exactly  opposite  to  what  we  proposed. 
The  qualities  that  we  possess  are  admirably  fitted 
to  enable  us  to  perform  a  second  part  in  life's  con 
cert  ;  but  when  we  attempt  to  lead  the  band,  our 
soft  notes  become  scrannel  and  discordant,  by  be 
ing  strained  beyond  their  pitch  ;  and  our  tremulous 
melodies  cause  disgusting  dissonance,  if  they  at 
tempt  to  overpower  the  grand  full  tones  of  manly 
harmony,  instead  of  agreeably  filling  up  its  pauses." 

Mrs.  West. 

NOTE  19.     PAGE  61 

"  In  the  Brazils,"  says  a  writer  whose  name  I  caa 
not  now  recollect, "  the  females  are  obliged,  to  fol- 


153 

low  their  husbands  to  war,  to  supply  the  place  of 
beasts  of  burthen,  and  to  carry  on  their  backs  their 
children,  provisions,  hammocks,  and  every  thing 
wanted  in  the  field. 

"In  the  isthmus  ofDarien,  they  are  sent  al«ng 
with  warriors  and  travellers  as  we  do  baggage  hors". 
es.  Even  their  queen  appeared  before  some  En 
glish  gentlemen,  carrying  her  sucking  child  wrapt 
up  in  a  red  blanket. 

"  The  women  among  the  Ridians  of  America^ 
were,  what  the  Helotes  were,  among  the  Spartans^ 
a  vanquished  people  obliged  to  toil  for  their  con 
querors.  Hence,  on  the  banks  of  the  Oronofco,  we 
have  heard  of  mothers  slaying  their  daughters  out 
of  compassion,  and  smothering  them  in  the  hour  of 
their  birth.  They  consider  this  barbarous  pity  as 
a  virtue. 

"  Father  Joseph  Gumella,  reproving  one  of  thera 
for  this  inhuman  crime,  received  the  following  an 
swer.  "•  I  wish  to  God,  Father,  I  wish  to  God  that 
my  mother  had,  by  my  death,  prevented  the  mani 
fold  distresses  that  I  have  endured,  and  have  yet  t« 


154 

endure  as  long  as  I  live.  Had  she  kindly  stifled  me 
in  my  birth,  I  should  not  have  felt  the  pain  of  death, 
nor  the  numberless  other  pains  to  which  life  has 
subjected  me.  Consider,  Father,  our  deplorable 
condition.  Our  husbands  go  to  hunt  with  their  bows 
and  arrows,  and  trouble  themselves  no  father  : 
we  are  dragged  along  with  an  infant  at  our  breast, 
and  another  in  a  basket.  They  return  ia  the  ev 
ening  without  any  burden.  We  return  whh  the 
burden  of  our  children.  Though  tired  with  long 
walking,  we  are  not  allowed  to  sleep,  but  must  la- 
boar  the  whole  night,  in  grinding  maize  to  make 
chica  for  them.  They  get  drunk  and  in  their  drunk 
enness  beat  us,  draw  us  by  the  hair  of  our  head*,  and 
tread  us  under  foot.  What  then  have  we  to  com* 
fort  us  for  a  slavery,  perhaps  of  twenty  year?  1  A 
young  wife  is  brought  upon  us  and  permitted  to 
abuse  us  and  our  children.  Can  human  nature  en 
dure  such  tyranny  t  What  kindness  can  we  show 
to  our  female  children,  equal  to  that  of  relieving 
them  from  such  servitude,  more  bitter  a  thousand 
times  than  death  1  I  repeat  again,  would  to  God 


155 

my  mother  had  put  me  under  ground  the  moment 
.I  was  born." 

"  If  the  great  outlines  of  this  complaint  be  tru«, 
they  fully  evince  the  deplorable  condition  of  sav 
age  women ;  and  that  they  are  probable,  similar  in 
stances  among  barbarous  nations  will  not  permit  us 
to  doubt. 

NOTE  20.     PAGE  65. 

It  is  asserted  by  Professor  Robison,  in  his  work 
upon  illuminism,  as  well  as  by  other  writers,  who 
have  treated  upon  the  French  Revolution,  that 
Madam  Tallien,  accompanied  by  other  beautiful 
women,  laying  aside  all  modesty,  came  into  the  pub 
lic  theatre,  and  presented  themselves  to  public 
view,  with  bared  limbs,  a  la  Sauvage  as  the  alluring 
•bjects  of  desire. 

See  Robison's  Proofs,  &c.  p.  197. 

NOTE  21.     PAGE  61. 

"  In  the  early  part  of  the  French  monarchy,  the 
ladies  paid  scarce  any  attention  to  dress. 


166 

would  appear  that  they  thought  of  nothing  more 
than  pleasing  their  husbands,  and  giving  a  proper 
education  to  their  children,  and  that  the  rest  of 
their  time  was  employed  in  family  concerns,  -and 
rural  economy.  If  their  dress  was  subject  to  little 
change  in  those  primitive  times,  we  ought  not  to 
be  astonished  to  see  the  fair  sex  indemnify  them 
selves  at  present  for  their  inaction,  Their  dress, 
however,  has  experienced  the  same  revolutions  as 
that  «f  men.  There  was  a  time  when  their  robes 
rose  so  high,  that  they  absolutely  covered  the 
breast  ;  but  under  Charles  VI.  Queen  Isabella,  of 
Bavaria,  as  remarkable  for  her  gallantry  as  her 
beauty,  brought  back  the  fashion  of  leaving  the 
«ho»lders  and  part -of  the  neck  uncovered. 

"  Let  us  hear  what  Juvenal  des  Ursins  says  res 
pecting  the  manner  in  which  the  women  dressed 
their  heads. 

"  Both  married  and  unmarried  ladies  were  very 
extravagant  in  their  dress,  and  wore  caps  wonder 
fully  high  and  large-,  having  two  great  ears  at  each 


157 

*lde,  which  were  of  such  magnitude  that  when  they 
wishtd  to  enter  a,  door  it  was  impossible  for  them." 

The  reign  of  Charles  the  VII.  brought  back  the 
use  of  earrings,  bracelets,  and  collars.  Some  jears 
before  the  death  of  that  prince,  the  drese  of  the 
ladies  was  ridiculous  in  the  highest  degree.  They 
wore  robes  so  exceedingly  long,  that  several  yards 
of  the  train  dragged  behind  ;  the  sleeves  were  so 
wide  that  they  swept  the  ground  ;  and  their  heads 
were  lost  under  immease  bonnets,  which  were 
three-fourths  of  their  breadth  in  height.  To  this 
ridiculous  fashion  another  succeeded,  which  was 
not  less  so.  The  ladies  placed  a  kind  of  cushion 
upon  their  heads,  loaded  with  ornaments,  which 
displayed  the  worst  taste  imaginable.  The  head 
dress  was  so  large,  that  it  was  two  vards  in  breadth. 
At  that  period  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  enlarge 
(he  doors  of  all  the  houses." 

Sketches  of  the  Sex,  p.  209 — 10. 
The  be-lles  of  that  period,  however,  could  not 
daim  an  exclusive  of  right  to  the  palm  of  extrava 
gance.     The  beaux  were  scarely  Itss  ridicules 
14 


i&e 

in  their  attire.  "  Figure  to  yourself,"  says  a  French 
writer,  "  a  petit  maitre,  with  his  hair  flat  and 
bushy,  dressed  in  a  doublet,  shaped  like  an  under 
waistcoat,  which  scarcely  covered  his  reins ;  his 
breeches  exceedingly  close,  rising  very  high,  and 
his  middle  bound  round  with  a  ribband,  in  a  most 
whimsical  manner,  as  may  still  be  seen  in  some  an 
cient  paintings ;  add  to  all  this  artificial  shoulders, 
in  form  of  a  cushion,  which  were  placed  upon  each 
shoulder  blade,  to  make  him  appear  to  have  a  large 
chest,  and  to  give  him  a  robust  and  vigorous  ap 
pearance.  This  strange  caricature  was  terminated 
ty  shoes,  the  points  of  which  for  people  of  quality 
were  full  two  feet  in  length."  In  England  the 
fashion  of  shoes  with  long  peaks,  was  carried  to  such 
extravagance  that  it  was  found  expedient  to  sup 
port  them  by  a  gold  chain  extending  from  the  ex 
tremity  of  the  shoe  to  a  band  placed  above  the 
knee. 


159 

NOTE  22.     PAGE  72. 
Like  that  majestic  m'rtal,  which  subdued^ 
As  Milton  says)  the  monsters  of  the  wood. 

These  lines  allude  to  Milton's  Eulogy  on  chastity, 
from  which  the  following  lines  are  extracted. 

<:  She  that  has  that,  is  clad  in  complete  steel, 
And  like  a  quiver'd  nymph  with  arrows  keen, 
May  trace  huge  forests,  and  unharbour'd  heaths. 
Infamous  hills,  and  sandy  perilous  wilds, 
Where  through  the  sacred  rays  of  chastity, 
ISTo  savage  fierce,  bandit  or  mountaineer, 
Will  dare  to  soil  her  virgin  purit_/; 
Yea  there  where  very  desolation  dwells 
By  grots,  and  caverns  shagg'dwith  horrid  shades, 
She  may  pass  on  with  unblench'd  majesty, 
Be  it  not  done  in  pride,  or  in  presumption." 

NOTE  23,     PAGE  72. 

The  cestus  or  girdle  of  Venus  was  supposed  by 
the  ancients  so  be  endued  with  peculiar  powers  of 
fascination. 


NOTE  24.     PAGE  77. 

The  Spartan  mother  exulting  over  the  body  of 
i»€r  son,  slain  in  batllo,  is  thus  described  by  a 
lady,  whose  productions  add  one  to  very  njany 
proofs,  that  female  hands  are  competent  to  u  wake 
to  extacy  the  living  lyre." 

£t  Fierce  with  strange  joy  she  stands,  tire  battle  won* 
Elate  and  tearless  o'er  her  slaughter'd  son, 
"  He  died  for  Sparta,  diod  unknown  to  fear, 
His  wounds  all  honest,  and  his  shield  his  bier  ; 
And  shall  I  weep  ?" — stern  daughters  of  the  brave.. 
Thus  maids  and  matrons  hail'd  the  Spartan's  grave, 
By  turns  they  caught,  they  lit  the  hero-flamo, 
And  scorn'd  the  woman's  for  the  patriot's  name. 
Epistles  on  women  by  Lucy  Mkin* 

NOTE  25.     PAGE  77. 

Cornelia,  a  celebrated  Roman  matron,  was  left  a 
widow  in  the  flower  of  her  age,  and  devoted  her 
whole  time  and  undivided  attention,  to  the  educa- 
tioa  of  her  offspring.  When  a  lady  had  exhibited 


her  jewels  at  Cornelia's  house,  and  begged  to  be 
indulged  with  the  sight  of  her  own,  the  affection 
ate  parent  produced  her  two  sons,  Cains  and  Ti 
berius  Gracchus,  saying,  "These  are  the  only  jewels 
I  hare  to  shew."  Too  ambitious  of  being  distin 
guished,  she  probably  urged  them  to  that  career, 
which  terminated  in  their  destruction.  She  is  said 
to  have  reproached  them  in  their  youth,  that  they 
had  not  rendered  her  illustrious  as  the  mother  of 
the  Gracchi  ;  and  after  their  death  she  replied  to 
one,  who  would  have  condoled  with  her  on  their 
account,  that  "  the  woman,  who  had  given  birth  to 
the  Gracchi  could  not  be  deemed  unfortunate." 
After  her  decease  the  Romans  erected  a  statue  ta 
her  memory,  with  this  inscription:  "To  Cornelia 
mother  of  the  Gracchi" 

NOTE  26.     PAGE  77. 

Caesar  Borgia  was  a  son  to  Pope  Alexander  VI. 
one  who  was  initiated  by  his  mother  Vanozza,  into 
all  the  mysteries  of  iniquity  which  could  qualify 

him  for  a  career  of  guilty    ambition,      He  was 
14  * 


162 

made  an  Archbishop,  and  a  Cardinal,  which  office! 
did  not  deter  him  from  destroying  those  who  were 
in  any  degree  opposed  to  his  nefarious  projects,  by 
poison  or  assassination.  In  503  Borgia  lost  his 
father,  who  was  supposed  to  have  died  by  poison, 
which  they  had  prepared  for  a  rich  Cardinal,  whose 
estate  thev  wished  to  appropriate  to  themselves, 
but  which  they  both  took  by  mistake.  It  proved 
fatal  to  the  father  ;  but  the  SOB,  by  strength  of  con 
stitution  escaped  with  life,  though  he  long  experi 
enced  its  penicious  effects.  He  was  killed  in  a 
skirmish  and  stripped  by  the  victors.  Notwith 
standing  he  has  been  held  up  to  admiration,  by 
Machiavel  as  the  perfect  specimen  of  a  "  great 
man,"  •'  yet,"  says  one  of  his  biographers,  "  he  was 
hated  in  prosperity,  detested  in  adversity,  stripped 
cf  all  his  honours  and  possessions,  even  such  as  he 
fairly  might  have  claimed,  and  leaving  behind 
him  a  name,  consigned  to  universal  detestation,  it 
•would  seem  that  he  gained  nothing  by  being  a  vil 
lain." 


165 

NOTE  27.     PAGE  83. 

When  Alexander  the  Great  had  arrived  at  the 
zenith  of  his  power,  he  was  surrounded  by  a  num 
ber  of  sycophants,  who  by  indulging  his  humour  and 
soothing  his  passions,  precipitated  him  into  extrava 
gance  of  conduct,  and  deprived  him  of  that  equa 
nimity  and  moderation,  which  were  necessary  for 
preserving  the  acquisitions  he  had  made.  One 
faithful  friend  declined  concurring  in  the  general 
adulation.  At  a  banquet  which  succeeded  the  sac 
rifices  performed  at  the  anniversary  festival  of 
Bacchus,  the  honour  of  which  Alexander  had  trans 
ferred  to  Castor  and  Pollux,  some  of  the  attendant* 
extolled  the  actions  of  the  Macedonian  prince  above 
those  of  the  gods.  Clytus  remonstrated,  alledging 
that "  he  cauld  not  bear  to  hear  such  indignities 
cffered  to  the  gods,  or  the  credit  of  ancient  heroes 
undervalued,  to  tickle  the  ears  of  a  living  prince." 
JU  to  Alexander's  actions  he  allowed  that  they  were 
great  and  glorious,  but  he  maintained  that  they 
were  not  supernatural ;  that  the  army  had  shared 
in  them,  and  that  they  had  a  right  to  participate  in 


104 

the  praise  belonging  to  them.  Alexander  was  in 
dignant  ;  and  as  Clytus  proceeded  in  the  same 
strains,  aad  affimed  that  he  had  preserved  the  life 
of  the  king  at  the  battle  ofGranicus,  stretching  out 
his  arm  and  saying,  "  this  hand,  O  Alexander,  has 
saved  thee,"  the  king  rushed  upon  him,  and  endeav 
oured  to  kill  him,  but  was  prevented  by  the  inter 
position  of  friends.  At  length,  however,  when  his 
friends  had  retired,  he  seized  a  lance  and  laid  Clytus 
dead  on  the  spot.  His  passion,  however,  soon  sub. 
sided,  and  reflecting  on  the  deed  he  had  perpe 
trated,  he  indulged  in  excessive  grief,  refused  food 
for  three  days,  neglected  his  apparel,  and,  as  some 
say  would  have  killed  himself  with  the  pike  that 
had  killed  Clytus. 

NOTE  28.     PAGE  83. 

By  the  common  law  of  England,  a  common  soold 
is  considered  as  a  public  nuisance  to  her  neighbor 
hood-,  and  may  be  indicted,  and  jf  convicted  is  sen. 
tenced  to  be  placed  in  a  certain  engine  of  correc. 
tion  called  the  cucking  stool,  or  ducking  stool,  be- 


165 

cause  the  residue  of  the  judgment  is,  that  when  sh« 
is  so  placed  therein,  she  shall  be  plunged  into  the 
water  for  her  punishment. 

Blackstone's  Com.  IV.  p.  168 — 9. 

NOTE  29.     PAGE  86. 

Locke's  Treatise  on  Education  contains  many 
excellent  observations  relative  to  the  system  of 
(error,  which  is  too  frequently  employed  in  educat 
ing  children.  Miss  More  likewise  observes  that 
"  parental  severity  drives  the  gentle  spirit  to  arti 
fice,  and  the  rugged  to  despair.  It  generates  de 
ceit  and  cunning,  the  most  hopeless  and  hateful  ia 
the  whole  catalogue  of  female  failings.  Ungovtrn- 
ed  anger  in  the  teacher,  and  inability  to  discrimin 
ate  between  venial  errors  and  premeditated  offence, 
though  they  may  lead  a  timid  creature  to  hide 
wrong  tempers,  or  to  conceal  bad  actions,  will  not 
help  her  to  subdue  the  one  or  correct  the  other. 
Severity  will  drive  terrified  children  to  seek  not 
for  reformation,  but  for  impunity.  A  readiness  to 
Forgive  them  promotes  frankness.  And  we  should 


abote  all  things,  encourage  them  to  be  frank,  m  or 
der  to  come  at  their  faults,  They  have  not  more 
faults  for  being  open,  they  only  discover  more." 

Strictures  on  Female  Education,  Chap.  \i. 

NOTE  30.     PAGE  89. 

The  Spectator,  No.  4.  observes  that  the  fair  sex' 
"  compose  the  most  powerful  part  of  our  people." 
Jn  another  number  he  declares  that  the  passion  for 
admiration,  which  is  so  universal  among  the  fair 
sex,  had  moulded  them  into  "  Idols"  of  all  degrees 
and  qualities.  "  Most  of  them  are  worshipped, 
like  Meloch  in  fire  and  flames.  Some  of  them,  like 
Baal  lore  to  see  their  votaries  cut  and  slashed,  and 
shedding  blood  for^them.  Some  of  them,like  the  Idol 
Jn  the  Apocrypha,  must  have  treats  and  collations 
prepared  for  them  every  night."  We  are  likewise 
informed  by  the  same  author,  that  females  of  the 
lowest  classes  were  an  inferior  kind  of"  idob,"  and 
were  used  by  their  worshippers  sometimes  like 
Chinese  Idols-,  who  are  whipped  and  scourged  when 


167 

they  refuse  to  comply  with  the  prayers  that  are  of 
fered  to  them. 

NOTE  31.     PAGE  95. 

I  shall  not  multiply  authorities  in  support  of  the 
assertion  to  which  this  note  refers,  but  produce  one, 
which  contains  the  substance  of  what  has  well  been 
observed  on  the  subject.  The  writer  in  the  fol 
lowing  passage  is  treating  of  the  education  of  boys, 
but  his  observations  apply  with  equal  if  not  superi 
or  force  to  young  females. 

"  A  public  education  may  be  formed  on  the  very 
best  plan,  may  be  conducted  by  the  best  rules,  and 
yet  in  many  points  it  may  fall  short  of  what  may  be 
effected  by  domestic  instruction.  The  one  cannot 
in  the  nature  of  things  be  so  elaborate  as  the  other : 
besides  what  tutorage  can  equal  that  which  pro" 
ceeds  froin  the  attentive  zeal  of  an  elightened  par 
ent  ?  What  affection  less  warm  and  intense  will 
prescribe  and  follow  such  rules  of  self  denial,  as 
aie  necessary  to  preserve  the  pupil  from  receiving 
any  impression  which  may  be  mischievous  to  his 


168 

ftiture  innocence  and  peace  ?  When  the  object  is 
viewed  in  this  light,  it  would  be  folly  to  give  up  the 
privilege  of  forming  our  offspring  according  to  the 
brightest  model  of  virtue,  which  our  imagination 
can  conceive.  Indeed  so  forcible  and  so  important  ap 
pears  in  my  eyes,this  last  urged  reason  for  the  pref 
erence  of  domestic  education,  that  to  those  opulent 
idlers,  who  have  neither  the  capacity,  nor  the  in 
clination  to  fulfil  in  their  own  persons  this  most  im 
portant  of  parental  duties,  and  who  consign  their 
children  over  to  the  care  of  school-masters,  I 
would  recommend  to  them  to  be  very  liberal  oftheir 
treasures  to  the  enlightened  persons  who  are  every 
way  qualified  for  the  education  of  youth,  and  to  in 
sist  on  their  limiting  their  pupils  to  a  small  number  ; 
for  though  the  languages  may  be  very  well  taught 
in  large  schools,  yet  the  morals  must  necessarily  be 
totally  neglected.'5  Graham's  Letters  on  Education. 
There  are  cases,  however,  in  which  public 
schools  are  to  be  preferred,  such  as  the  want  of 
health,  knowledge  or  leisure  in  the  parents,  or  the 
fathers  being  a  widower.  &c. 


169 

NOTE  32.     PAGE  97. 

The  author  of"  The  Pursuits  of  Literature"  ani 
madverts  with  just  severity  on  those  commentators 
©n  Shakespeare  who  "  are  peculiarly  and  even 
zealously  studious  in  minutely  explaining  and  de 
claring  all  the  various  modes  and  receipts  which  the 
age  of  the  Virgin  Queen  afforded,  or  recommended 
for  the  Queen  of  Love  and  soft  desire/'*  He  like 
wise  declares  "  it  was  very  hold  and  very  indecent 
in  the  Reverend  Dr.  Warton,  to  publish  Pope";:  im- 
tation  of  the  Second  Satire  of  the  first  Book  of 
Horace.  Pope  never  printed  it  in  his  works 
himself;  Dr.  Warburton  refused  to  admit  it ;  no 
common  edition  whatsoever  of  Pope  has  admitted 
it ;  and  it  is  printed  only  in  a  vulgar  appendix  in 
two  volumes."  He  says  "  Mr.  PopeV  works  are 
distinguished  for  peculiar  correctness  in  taste  and 
morals  ;  and  are  intended  for  the  most  general  and 
unqualified  perusal.  But,  speaking  of  some  par 
ticular  passages  which  Pope  iJimself  had  designed 


*Page  85,  1 1th  London  Edition, 
15 


should  be  buried  in  oblivion,  but  which  Dr.  Warton 
with  perverse  diligence  had  collected  and  caused 
to  be  printed,  the  Author  of  the  Pursuits  of  Liter 
ature  observes,  "  If  Mr.  Pope  had  often  written 
ifotwhis  works  must  hare  been  consigned  to  the  li 
brary  of  a  brothel.  This  edition  of  Pope's  works 
will  be  sent  into  all  parts  of  the  civilized  world  ; 
and  can  it  be  said  that  I  speak  without  reason  ? 
Surely  I  am  not  pleading  for  public  decency  in 
vain."* 

Since  that  period,  as  appears  by  English  Reviews, 
the  looser  productions  of  Dryden,and  other  eminent 
poets,  have  been  drawn  from  the  sink  of  oblivion, 
and  incorporated  with  the  body  of  their  works,  bj 
men  who  have  at  OHCC  degraded  themselves,  in 
jured  the  reputation  of  the  authors  whose  writings 
they  have  collected,  and  deserved  the  execration 
of  all  who  wish  well  to  the  morals  and  happiness  of 
the  community. 

*  Pursuits  of  Literature,  407—8—9. 


171 

NOTE  33.     PAGE  99. 

An  Edition  of  the  works  of  the  principal  English 
Poets,  has  been  published  by  Arthur  Aikin,  from 
which  every  thing  is  expunged  which  can  shock 
the  feelings  of  delicacy,  wound  the  ear  of  mod 
esty,  or  that  has  a  tendency  to  seduce  the  reader 
from  the  path  of  moral  rectitude. 

NOTE  34.     PAGE  102. 

It  may,  prrhap.*.  not  be  amiss  to  give  a  list  of 
some  provincial  words  and  phrases,  which  ought  to 
be  aYoided  by  all  who  aspire  to  speak  or  write  the 
English  language  correctly. 

Ant^  for  am  not,  arbs  for  herbs,  arn'd  for  earned, 
a,ry  for  any  or  either,  ax'd  for  asked,  Laie  for  beet, 
a  garden  vegetable,  lan't  Tor  are  not  or  be  not,  It- 
yend  for  beyond,  bile  for  boil,  br assets  for  bristles, 
cheer  for  chair,  dumbly  for  chimney,  compel  for  pro 
pel,  as  the  boat  is  compelled  by  steam,  cutlash  for 
cutlass,  cute  for  acute,  come  for  came,  'disgest  for  di 
gest,  dicker  for  deal,  driv  for  drove,  droi^jcr  for 
droyer,  drownded  for  drowned,  eat  for  ate  in  the 


172 

preterite./?:  for  foughb/urtfer  for  further.o-aJ  for  girl, 
a  JS!/  for  intoxicated,  gin  for  gave,  hash  for  harsh, 
houstn  for  household,  hobble  a  rough  projection  or 
knoll,  han't  for  have  not,  hiin  and  /tern  for  his  and 
hers,  jest  for  just,  hag  for  keg,  kixer  for  cover,  fcm» 
for  molasses,  larnt  for  learned,  nicacking  for  mean, 
•million  for  melon,  noiher  for  neither,  nceger  fornt- 
gro,  nurZy  for  gnarled,0$;/ropo£ot<j  for  cLi-treperous, 
ourn  for  ours,  pesky  for  troublesome,  popular  for 
populous,  as  a  popular  village,  popple  for  poplar, 
for  quota,  rah/  for  really,  rffitgc  for  refuse, 
for  rode,  and  rid  for  riddance,  rcsk  for  risk, 
for  roots,  so.llei  for  sallad?,  sfl?/5  /,  for  I  said, 
scrabble  for  scribble,  sicA,  or  sicker  for  such,  jj*g-;» 
for  design,  &;le  for  soil,  splosh  for  splash,  smudder 
for  smother,  squirm  for  writhe,  or  twist,  spr?/  for 
nimble,  stundcd  for  stunned,  tantrum  for  tandem, 
tat'nf  for  it  is  not,  tenant  for  tenon,  timorsomc  for 
timorous,  raJ/ey  for  volley,  tfo^fi  for  voyage,  yender 
for  yonder. 

This  catalogue  may  be  greatly  enlarged,  and  if 
teachers  of  youth  would  generally  turn  their  atten- 


173 

tion  to  the  subject,  it  would  not  only  induce  a  uni 
formity  of  dialect,  but  prevent  that  ridicule,  which 
so  frequently  attaches  to  the  use  of  what  are  some 
times  called  yankeyisms. 

NOTE  35.     PAGE  105. 

Baj'le  was  an  eminent  French  critic  and  philoso.. 
pher  of  the  17th  century,  Bentley  was  an  English 
man,  his  cotemporary,  of  distinguished  abilities  and 
erudition.  These  are  used  to  represent  learned 
men  in  general,  as  warriors  are  sometimes  denom 
inated  Alexanders,  or  Statesmen  "  Solomons  in 
council,"  &c. 

NOTE  36.     PAGE  110. 

The  Aborigines  of  America  inflict  a  variety  of 
tortures  on  those  young  candidates  for  martial  emi 
nence,  who  aspire  to  take  the  lead  in  their  predato 
ry  and  murderous  excursions.  This  is  done  to  test 
the  fortitude  of  the  would  be  warriors,  and  to  ascer 
tain  whether  they  have  a  sufficient  strength  of  con 
stitution  to  endure  the  privations  and  sufferings 

15  * 


.174 

which  result  from  the  honourable  vocation  of 
wielding  the  tomahawk,  and  scalping  knife.  The 
savages  of  South  America  have  likewise  their  peo 
ple  of  quality.  But  as  they  are  all  nearly  or  quite  na 
ked,  they  cannot  display  their  gentility  by  the  shape 
or  colour  of  their  garments.  Of  course  the  body 
itself  must  be  subjected  to  the  operation  of  fashion. 
They  pierce  the  no*e,  slit  the  ear?,  mould- the 
head  into  various  shapes,  either  round,  flat,  conical 
or  lengthened  oat,  and  in  short  do  and  suffer  as 
much  or  more  than  is  performed  by,  or  inflicted 
open  a  pretty  Miss  who  is  training  for  a  toast,  and 
is  intended  for  a  leader  of  the  ton. 

NOTE  37.     PAGE  111. 

Madame  de  Genlis  recommends  that  children  of 
ten  or  twelve  years  of  age  should  be  taught  house 
keeping,  cooking,  accounts,  washing,  ironing,  and 
weighing  out  medicines,  in  their  play  hours,  with 
small  doll's  furniture  and  utensils.  She  thinks  this 
would  save  much  time,  and  prevent  their  mixing 
with  servants,  as  those  plays  would  be  always  earn- 


175 

ed  on  in  the  presence  of  their  mother  or  goveni- 
ess  or  under  her  directien.  The  girls,  she  observes, 
might  dress  dolls  aocordmg  to /the  fashion  described 
in  their  geographical  lessons,  and  prints  of  ttie  cos- 
tames  of  various  nations,  might  be  procured  for  that 
purpose.  Girls  should  not  be  excluded  from  active 
exercise.  "  It  is  a  material  error,"  says  an  able  writ 
er  on  education,  "  to  make  that  ill-founded  distinc 
tion  between  the  sexes,  which  condemns  young  fe 
males,  almost  from  their  cradles,  to  a  sedentary 
life,  by  giving  them  scarcely  any  other  playthings 
but  dolls,  and  tinsel  work,  or  trinkets,  while  the 
sprightly  boy  amuses  himself  with  his  noisy  drum 
and  other  active  diversions.  Such  premature  mod 
esty  is  dearly  purchased  at  the  expense  of  health 
and  of  a  cheerful  mind.  What  an  infatuation  to 
train  up  sickly  women,  debilitated  mothers,  and  con 
sequently  a  debilitated  offspring  !  "  Sedentary  di 
versions,"  says  Buchan,  "  are  of  no  use  but  to  Con 
sume  time.  Instead  of  relieving  the  mind  they 
often  require  more  thought  than  either  study  or 
business,  Every  thing  which  inducis  young  people 


176 

ro  sit  still,  unless  it  be  some  necessary  employment 
should  be  avoided. 

NOTE  38.     PAGE  11 3. 

I  shall  give  the  testimony  of  a  few  eminent  writ 
ers  in  favour  of  the  iises  of  dancing."  Its  abuses  have 
been  adverted  to  in  the  lines  immediately  preced  - 
ing  those  to  which  this  note  refers,  "  I  know  an  em 
inent  physician  who  used  to  say,  that  he  made  his 
children  dance,  instead  of  giving  them  physic.  It 
were,  well  if  more  people  followed  his  example." 
— Buchan.  I  consider  dancing  as  conducive  to  health, 
and  as  sometimes  a  mean  of  preventing  deformity  ; 
and  even  when  there  is  no  danger  of  that,  all  must 
see  that  it  is  the  mean  of  making  young  people  of 
both  sexes  stand,  walk  and  sit,  and  even  look  and 
speak  to  advantage.  It  should  be  remembered  that 
the  end  of  dancing  is  not  so  much  to  make  young 
people  shine  at  a  ball,  as  to  give  an  easy  air  and 
grace  to  all  the  motions  ef  the  body." — Nelson. 
"  Let  opulent  parents  put  their  children,  as  soon  as 
they  can  walk  with  firmness  under  the  care  of  the 


177 

best  dancing  master  they  can  engage.  But  let  tne 
tutor  treat  the  learning  to  dance  as  a  pastime  not 
as  a  task." — Berkenhout.  "  Dancing  is  now  so  uni- 
rersal  that  it  cannot  be  dispensed  with  in  the  educa 
tion  of  a  gentleman." — Chapone.  Se  likewise  The 
Spectator,  No.  4G6. 

NOTE  39.     PAGE  114. 

"  To  every  thing  there  is  a  season,  and  a  time 
for  every  purpose  under  heaven,"  said  the  wise 
man  ;  but  he  said  it  before  the  invention  of  baby- 
balls.  This  modern  device  is  a  sort  of  triple  con 
spiracy  against  the  innocence,  the  health,  and  the 
happiness  of  children;  thtis  by  factitious  amuse 
ments  to  rob  them  of  a  relish  for  the  simple  joys, 
the  unbought  delights,  which  naturally  belong  to 
their  blooming  seasons,is  like  blotting  out  spring  from 
the  year.  To  sacrifice  the  true  and  proper  enjoy 
ments  of  sprightly  and  happy  children,  is  to  make 
them  pay  a  dear  and  disproportionate  price  for 
their  artificial  pleasures.  They  step  at  once  from 
the  nursery  to  the  ball-room,  and  by  a  preposterous 


178 

change  of  habits,  are  thinking  of  dressing  them 
selves,  at  an  age  when  they  used  to  be  dressing 
their  dolls. 

"  To  behold  liliputian  coquettes,  projecting  dress 
es,  studying  colours,  assorting  ribbands  and  feathers, 
their  little  hearts  beating  with  hopes  about  part 
ners,  and  fears  about  rivals  ;  and  to  see  their  fresh 
cheeks  pale,  after  a  midnight  supper,  their  aching 
heads  and  unbraced  nerves,  disqualify  the  little  lan 
guid  beings  for  the  next  day's  task,  and  hear  the 
grave  apology  "  that  it  is  owing  to  the  wine,  the 
crowd,  the  heated  room  of  the  last  night's  ball,"  all 
this,  I  say,  would  be  very  ridiculous,  if  the  mischief 
of  the  thing  did  not  take  off  from  the  merriment  of 
it."  Miss  More's  Strictures  on  female  Eduaation. 

NOTE  40.     PAGE  11 4. 

Queen  Margaret's  bans  and  menaces  are  pretty 
liberally  strewed  through  several  of  Shak.*pcare*s 
plays.  Her  anathemas,  however,  on  the  "  hump* 
back'd  tyrant,"  in  Richard  III,  commencing 


179 

"  If  heaven  have  any  grievous  plague  in  store. 
Exceeding  those  that  I  can  wish  upon  thee,  &c. 

are  peculiarly  terrific,  and  though  uttered  by  a 
woman,  may  be  considered  as  master  pieces  of  exe 
cration. 

NOTE  41.     PAGE  124. 

Dr.  Barrow,  in  an  essay  on  education,  treating 
of  novels,  observes,  "  Many  works  of  this  descrip 
tion  in  our  language,  may  be  read  with  innocence 
and  safety.  The  novels  of  Fielding,  ef  Richardson, 
and  of  Radcliffe,  no  man  of  taste  will  peruse  with 
out  pleasure,  and  no  man  of  reflection  without  im 
provement." 

Another  eelebrated  author  says,  "  I  would  by  n« 
means  exclude  this  kind  of  reading  which  young 
people  are  so  fond  of,  tho'  I  think  the  greatest  care 
should  be  taken  in  the  choice  of  those  fictitious 
stories,  which  so  enchant  the  mind,  most  of  which 
have  a  tendency  to  inflame  the  passions  of  youth, 
while  the  chief  purpose  of  education  should  be  t» 


,130 

moderate  and  restrain  them.  There  are,  however 
works  of  this  class,  in  which  excellent  morality  is 
joined  with  the  most  lively  pictures  of  the  human 
mir.d.  and  with  all  that  can  entertain  the  imagina 
tion  and  interest  the  heart.  But  young  people  should 
never  read  any  thing  of  the  sentimental  kind,  with 
out  taking  the  judgment  of  their  best  friends  in  the 
choice  ;  for  I  am  persuaded  that  the  indiscriminate 
readin*4  of  such  kinds  of  books  corrupt  more  female 
hearts  than  any  other  cause  whatsoever." 

Clwpone's  Letters. 

NOTE  42.     PAGE  130. 

"  If  women  knew  more  men  must  learn  more — 
Tor  ignorance  would  then  be  shameful — and  it 
would  be  the  fashion  to  be  instructed." 

Edingburgh  Review. 


ERRATA.— Page  70,  Line  10,  from  the  lop,  fo* 
"  son"  read  sun. 

Page  1 34,  line  3,  from  the  top,  for  "  common7' 
read  corporal. 


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